Take to the Woods
by Paladins
Summary: Amell was not the Grey Warden.  She is there, in the Tower as Uldred begins his quick dissent into madness.  And Cullen refuses to let her be hurt because of that wicked blood mage and his insanity.  Cullen kidnaps her and leaves the Tower for good.
1. Chapter 1

Everybody knew something was wrong as soon as Uldred returned. The entire feel of the Tower changed when he was marched back. The Tower had never been a happy place but it had been calm. An even feel of things. But upon their return from Ostagar, telling of the horrible defeat suffered, there was something deep and dark dwelling, swirling in Uldred. He had always been dangerous. But now it seemed to crawl just under his skin, slither beneath the pale flesh. Everybody knew that the trouble had been drug back from Ostagar, finding a host in Uldred. But they could do nothing. Not while the First Enchanter still stood as a shield before Greagoir, and Uldred standing behind the withering old man and laughing. No, they simply had to wait.

They hadn't needed to wait long.

Cullen had been standing at his post in the library for apprentices when it first happened. He didn't like this post, and had a tendency to doze off during it. Beside the fact that it was always so quiet, she had recently been through her Harrowing and rarely- and never during his post- traveled down to that library anymore. The apprentices themselves were usually harmless. A tad rowdy, a few still angry or terrified, but often enough nothing worth worrying about.

Most of the other Templars were on edge. Anders, perhaps the most troublesome mage, had recently escaped again. He had been angry, dangerously so- and not just the type that came out of months of solitary confinement. His elven girlfriend had been killed during her Harrowing, and he had not taken it well. Ser Rylock and he had always had an odd sort of spiteful rivalry going on. That she was there during the elf's Harrowing was enough to cause an uproar of conspiracy theories to arise. And it was weeks earlier than that Jowan had shown himself a blood mage, nearly killing Greagoir and the First Enchanter Irving in his escape. Uldred was happy to fan all the flames growing in the Tower, and it was not surprising that the others were so on edge.

It was more worrisome that Cullen himself was less worried, and perhaps sympathizing with the mages' motives.

But then he heard the screams and the bells. His eyes snapped open and he began telling the apprentices to go back to their rooms. The Tower was to go on lock down. The younger one's began crying and the olders one's quickly drug them back. Cullen glanced at his friends, his comrades, but they only shrugged. It was later, into the night, that he learned there were three blood mages on the loose in the upper floors. They had summoned a few demons. Two of them apprentices somehow snuck above. The other they were still hunting.

The hunt for the ringleader traveled long into the next day. Nobody had gotten any sleep, and it was catching up to them. The lyrium helped, but their armor was heavy, their stomachs empty, and the adrenaline had long since worn off. Cullen was sitting against the wall in the hall leading up. His helmet left to roll, hitting his armored boots- the only noise in the hall. Greagior hadn't given them any orders besides search.

They had found nothing.

He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he heard the heavy door opening. In a fit of panic he was on his feet. But the helmet rolled away and Cullen could only flinch as he glanced from it- now against the wall and taunting him- to Greagoir who was marching down the steps with Thain and Brennan. Greagoir ordered as he walked by, not stopping. "Tower is still on lockdown. Go get your rest."

Cullen nodded, relieved and yet guilty. He had already slept. But food, he thought, glancing up the stairs to where their bunks were. Food would be nice. Once Greagoir was gone he snatched up his helmet and made his way towards the kitchens. He was quite ahead of the others on his floor, but the kitchen was far from empty. He put his helmet at his usual spot, the two others there giving him a nod, and he made his way to the line. He licked his dry lips, stretching to try and see what was being served.

She was there, helping some of the tranquil serve. Tranquil were easy prey for demons. Even if they did not panic, if they could not get into the safety of a shield they were nearly defenseless against the demons. Nobody taught them how to fight. And the tranquil could be trusted to help with the search. The fact that there weren't enough Tranquil to serve the meal. It made sense for some of the mages to be helping out. It made sense that she, Amell, would be standing in the line, handing out food.

And yet he was surprised, and tried not to stare. She was a simple sort of beauty with dark eyes. As somebody far more poetic than he had put it, hooks for the souls. He had heard that- from another mage no less- when he truly was new. Back when it only created discomfort. Cullen didn't want to think about the feelings it'd create to hear those again. To hear another speaking of her with that sort of dreamy wonder now.

Andraste forgive him, he had fallen far.

Cullen turned to stare at anything else but her. At the way the mage robes clung sinfully against her curves. But his eyes were always drawn back to her. This time he found her expression, and the sullen way her lips were pulled tight and her downcast eyes. Unlike many of the other mages she was less scared of the Templars, but between the scare and the fact that most of the Templars weren't overly kind in return, it made sense for her to look so tired and sad. It made his chest feel constricted, tight, and something twist in his heart though.

And then her face broke out in the tiniest of smiles, and he realized she was glancing up at him through her thick lashes. He felt his blood rise and forced himself not to blush. It was difficult, but he had more than enough practice. He didn't speak though. He still stuttered. He felt ashamed because of what she made him feel. What she, a mage, made him do. And then he felt guilty because he was ashamed of these feelings. She deserved somebody who wasn't ashamed. She poured his stew in his bowl, making him jump. He quickly moved on.

Cullen spent the rest of the night and next day thinking about her. It wasn't unusual. He spent much of his free time thinking about her. Except now all he could think about was the sullen expression. All he could think about was the heaviness in her eyes. All he could think about was all the blood mages. He could see Uldred and his sick expressions. Cullen could see Uldred hurting her. Twisting her. And that caused Cullen to stay up late, his gut twisting and anger rising.

He always had too good of an imagination, they had always said.

It only took two days later for him to finally decide. They found a fourth stash, a blood mage stash. Cullen began planning immediately. It was wrong. Andraste forgive him, he was going to smuggle a mage out of the Tower. He wasn't going to stay for when Uldred finally made his move. Everybody knew the mage was going to. And that anticipation as going to be their down fall. He knew that. When he did strike there would be panic. Uldred was relying on that. He was creating enough turmoil to make them anxious, so that when he did strike, they would jump and flinch. In that second, that moment, the Tower was going to fall.  
>She, Amell, had to be gone by then.<p>

_Another story from the kinkmeme from livejournal. Prompt: So, say F!Amell/F!Surana was never recruited by Duncan (if any other Warden was recruited isn't relevant for the story) and some time before all hell breaks lose in the Tower (you know, due to Uldred and his entourage), Cullen decides to run away with the only person he really cares about besides Andraste, F!Amell/F!Surana._

_So, this will be a tad slow to update here on f f .net since I'll be more worried to get it up on livejournal. But I'm putting it up here because I can. Hopefully I can finish this, maybe do a sequel I'm considering, and get up the story I still got on my hard drive with my pissy little elf mage up for all of your enjoyments._

_Reviews appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

Cullen had to wait a full day before he was able to act. He was a fairly patient man. Templars weren't allowed to be otherwise. Meditation, chantry life, standing hours on end in a hall, they had to be patient. In fact, Cullen knew most hours standing around on guard duty were spent meditating for a good chunk of the Tower's Templars. Or daydreaming. Sometimes that amounted to the same thing. Not recently, but in the past, at least, everybody meditated through guard duty.

At least everybody stopped giving him those looks. Some knowing, others finding humor, and plenty confused. But the looks stopped. He was no longer the only one stiff, flushed, or simply dazed. Few people got sleep, and few of the others questioned his long nights. It was a small thing, but it helped. Cullen had never been much of a liar, as proven with the years of trying to hide his infatuation with Amell.

Infatuation was such a tame word for what he felt- was doing.

The day had been spent in a lull. The last two days had been anxious, but it seemed the Tower was slowly beginning to relax again. Nobody did so consciously, but only Greagoir seemed completely on edge still. But he often was. There were a lot of problems with the coming lull. It was planned by Uldred, to begin with. Obviously the man was a complete master at mind fuckery, which, considering his dealings with demons, Cullen was far from surprised. Even as he knew it, he too had fallen into a small sense of security during the two days of nothing happening. Things were relatively normal. Two days of nothing.  
>That was the real problem though.<p>

Cullen, to his ever mounting shame, had a plan for smuggling out Amell. There were variables he wasn't sure of. Such as, how would she react. And what exactly was happening during their escape. Because the one thing Cullen was not going to do was actually create a distraction. He would not help Uldred. He was going to have a hard enough time looking at himself in the mirror after this. He was going to have a hard time looking at Amell, after this.

He was on his break, when the chance arrived, spending it on his knees before the statue of Andraste. He prayed, begged. For what, Cullen wasn't entirely sure. Forgiveness, understanding, a blessing. Simply for Amell to be safe. Perhaps all of the above, Cullen thought, shoulders sagging as he opened his eyes to stare at his clasped hands. What use was it? Was he not supposed to love Andraste over all others?

A snide part of him always loved to butt in. Saying she had the Maker, she had a husband. What did she need him for? Or better yet, why would he want her? What could Andraste give him? What could she do that Amell could not? Amell was here, and she was real. She he could touch.

Cullen pushed these thoughts as far away as possible. Especially when he kneeled before Her in the chantry. Such thoughts were wrong. They were blasphemous. But then, wasn't everything he was doing? Everything he felt? Cullen shut his eyes tight, mumbling The Chant of Light. Of course then he hears her. Just a quiet murmur, but he knows it's her. She is rarely louder than that. Most people are not loud in the Tower.

And Andraste's fine flaming ass, does she distract him. His lips fumble with the words to the chant, his eyes try to open. His muscles bunch and tense as he tries to follow her movements. Not just because he wishes he could look at her. Not just because it's so much better to look instead of imagine her face, her smiles, her curves. But because he needs to know she is safe.

Cullen knows then, when the Tower is full of screams of demons and twisted blood magic, that this is a test from Andraste herself. Kneeling there in the Chantry, with her just across the room, both beneath the visage of Her, that it was a test. Cullen realized it, as he grabbed a hold of Amell's forearm, and he stills for a moment. He can see the way the candles flicker around them and can hear the wails of demons. He tries to think, knowing She watched. What was the correct answer? Save Amell, stick to his conviction, protect her? Or his duty to the Chantry as a Templar? Andraste was kind, loving, forgiving. Cullen was no Mother, and had no right to try and guess Andraste's intentions.

Cullen only hoped, when he finally looked down at Amell again, that the fear that tainted her beautiful face was because of the demons in the halls and not because of him. Licking his severely dry lips, he pulled her out into the hall. "Cullen?" she says, looking from him to the hissing ash wraiths that were falling through the walls, attacking the Templars that charged them. Cullen pulled her along easily. She wasn't struggling, yet. She was hesitant, the wavier in her voice said as much. But she trusted him enough.

Maker, he hoped it was trust and not fear.

She hadn't feared him, grew angry with him when he told her that he was supposed to strike her down should she have failed her Harrowing. She had simply smiled sadly, nodding her head. He liked to tell himself he would have struck her down. But he had wondered, before all this happened if he would have. At least he had his answer now. Even knowing it was a demon, so long as it wore her skin- Cullen shivered at that thought, his grip tightening on her arm.

Her whimper was enough to make him come back. The screams, the roars of the demons, the hissing of the wraiths, all of it came flooding back. Swallowing hard, he pushed her behind him. "Stay here, please," he said to her, getting her behind one of the statue's alcoves, walking to Brennan. A quick conversation later, and Cullen knew what he was up against. Two rage demons, a couple walking corpses, and a little less than a dozen ash wraiths. Where Uldred had come up with the bodies, Cullen wasn't sure. Not that the idea of Uldred collecting bodies was all that surprising. And the more they killed, the bigger his army would be.

A scary fact that urged Cullen to move faster.

When he turned around he saw Amell emerging from the alcove, glancing down the hall. He probably should have expected her not to listen to him. He grabbed her again, her gasp making his heart hurt as he pulled her along. "Cullen, what are you doing?" she asked, keeping her voice quiet. Not that it mattered. His armor didn't allow for stealth.

"Hush." He said, and then added, "Please." He didn't have to look at her to know that her lips were jutted out in a pout, dark eyes narrowed.

"What are we doing? Shouldn't you be telling me to get to my room because of lock down? And you go and kill things like a proper Templar?"

He sincerely hoped she missed the way he flinched at her words. When he didn't respond she gave a huff and stumbled after him. Cullen knew she didn't have much of a choice, he was stronger than her and his grip on her arm was solid, but it eased some guilt to know she wasn't actually struggling. They went to the first floor, easily avoiding most of the horde. Amell glanced around, slowing down as she became more confused. Cullen continued to pull her along.

There was an emergency escape route from the basement where the phylacteries used to be held. They currently still were. There hadn't been enough time to move them. Cullen had considered destroying her's as they passed through. He hadn't come to a decision on that. He licked his lips again, pushing open the door and ignoring her cries of protest as he dragged her in.

Unlike most other Templars, Cullen didn't get much sleep at night. He tended to avoid secluded areas that let his mind wander. Especially at the beginning, when it was fascination, wonderment, and so new. At some point he had accepted his feelings for Amell. But the sin that came along with them, that he avoided. He ended up in the libraries often, reading to keep his mind occupied from images of her, and fantasies of 'what could have been' scenarios.

He had come upon an old book about the Tower. No doubt left there by Anders. An obvious, beautiful hiding spot. Keep it in plain sight, and nobody else would find it. Nobody did, accept Cullen, who had been so desperate he picked up the book. Finding, instead of a list of herbs and their uses, the prints of the Tower had been a surprise. He had read it out of boredom. Finding the different escape methods, many of which explained how Anders had gotten out over the years, and old rooms left unused.

He had contemplated taking the book to Greagoir. It had never happened since he hadn't finished the book. It still sat on the bookshelf, labeled under herbs and poisons. Another failure on his part. He wasn't a very good Templar, Cullen was beginning to realize. "What are we doing?" she said, startling him out of his thoughts. He looked back and froze.

She was terrified.

Cullen glanced back, estimating how far they had to go. He had ran this route during the last few nights. He rarely ever had night shifts, and was generally given free reign to walk the halls. He checked the route, making sure the boat was sturdy that was there. Anders likely paid somebody to take it back- which actually explained the rouge merchant they found wandering the lower levels since their ferryman had sworn he hadn't brought him over. Nobody really trusted the drunk fisherman though, and both men had been penalized. But the boat was in perfect condition and he had smuggled some bags of food down to wait for them.

All he needed to do was get Amell there. On the boat. He swallowed, trying to find the words. He knew he was going to have to explain. He had known it. But he always had problems formulating the right sentences around her. Now, explaining this- it was worse than when he had stuttered foolishly over the words explaining he was supposed to kill her. He hadn't meant to tell her that, but it had slipped. At least now he meant to tell her. A slight improvement from before. "There is an escape route through here. A tunnel really." Maker, don't let him babble.

"You're running away?" The way she said it made him angry, and guilty, and tense all at the same time. Something must have flickered across his expression because she instantly was cowed and tried to back up.

"I'm getting you to safety," he said finally, gentling his hold on her arm. Damn his armor, he thought. She was going to bruise he bet.

Her look was one of a lack of comprehension. Cullen wondered, briefly, if she honestly did not know of his obsession with her. He had always been sure she- nobody knew the actual depth of his obsession. Even he hadn't thought he had fallen this far. But did she really have no idea what he felt for her? Was she that daft or did she not care to notice? Or was it simply she hadn't thought he was so infatuated to try this?

Whatever her reasons, she began to vehemently claw at his arm.

"No. No no no no no!" she said, pulling against him, eyes wide with unshed tears. Cullen watched with awe as she fought him. He didn't respond, his mind trying to catch up to the change. It wasn't until he felt the electricity trickle across his armor, seeping through to his skin. Her fingers gave a crackle as the blue lightning danced from the long fingers. He could feel the goosebumps pebble across his arm as his hair began to singe. Training, instinct, and perhaps fear pushed him ahead quicker than his thoughts could. He reached out and began to pull at her magic.

Even with her strangled gasp, he couldn't stop.

He found the tendrils of her magic and he pulled, tugged, and ripped them from her. His body warmed with the feeling of swallowing her essence, part of her being. It was only when she fell limp in his arms that Cullen fully realized what he had done. She fell against his chest and he tried to keep her from crashing against his hard breastplate. His arms slowly reached around her, shaking beneath the heavy armor. "No," she whispered, ending up clinging to him to remain standing. He imagined it was her first time experiencing a drain, and that made his gut wrench.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, curling around her protectively. And then he swept her off her feet, cradling her as he turned and continued through the cold mumbled incoherently into his neck as he carried, her mind dazed. He glanced back at the doorway, seeing nothing there. He then glanced at where the vials of blood were. Her blood hadn't been sent yet. After everything that had happened, there were three mages vials set aside, awaiting transfer to somewhere Cullen didn't know. He took a steadying breath, clutched her tighter, and hurried.

He might as well go the whole mile.

Cullen found her vile of blood and considered dropping it there on the floor. His breath came out in white puffs and she whimpered in his arms. He almost dropped it, threw it against the ground. But his hand stilled, and he carefully stuffed it away in his satchel. Not because he wanted a way to find her always- though a sick part of him he kept so deep and hidden wasn't just contemplating it- but because he had no right to make this decision for her. In the end, what to do with her blood was her own decision.

He clung to her, trying to be gentle as he pulled her closer to him. He thought he knew her. But her reaction had shocked him- terrified him. He couldn't imagine, anymore, how she would respond to him handing her the blood. He wasn't sure what he would do if she acted out again. He could not imagine pushing her away again. But this had to happen. He had to keep her away from Uldred. He could not let her wither and die beneath him. Or worse. Become twisted and broken in such a way that she wasn't so beautiful and perfect anymore.

Amell had stopped babbling, which while a good thing overall, meant he needed to be on the boat. Now. He was not going to fight her again. He carried her down, hunching when the passage quickly became small and tight. He could feel his shoulders and arms grate against the walls, but at least she was comfortable in his arms. That was more important. She didn't touch the walls. He only wished he had a blanket to keep her warm.

Then they emerged to the back and the air was no longer stale. He took a deep breath, turning towards the boat. The cliffs let out to the corrupt and contaminated water, the spray possibly dangerous against them. He carried her quickly to the boat, stopping only to pick up the bag. He laid her gently in the boat, the bag beside her.

Next came the hard part. He couldn't wear his heavy armor in the small fishing boat. His sword was going to be a problem in and of itself. But his armor would sink them. Leaving it though- he took a deep steadying breath and reached for the buckles. He had worn this armor forever it seemed. He had spent so long cleaning it, its heavy weight giving him a feeling of safety. But as he held the breastplate up Amell gave a groan, her hand flailing to the edge of the boat. She was going to hurt her hand the way she clumsily beat the edge for a grip.

He quickly shed the rest of his armor and pushed the boat out into the water. Crawling in he guided her hand back into the boat, smoothing her dark brown hair back. When she turned into the palm of his hand he couldn't stop the way his heart jumped into his throat. To feel the soft skin of her cheek against his palm, and for her to seek his hand out, it made him almost forget to row.

He turned to the oars. Lake Calenhad was often calm, beautiful, and serene. It was no different that day. Still waters run deep, however, and Cullen made sure to take care to not rock the boat. He knew how to swim well enough. Amell however, he wasn't sure. And since she still was dazed, he was confident that she would sink. As they drifted and he pushed, Amell slowly began to glance around, coming to with her surroundings. She curled up, hiding from the light and- he thought- him. Cullen closed his eyes and pulled harder on the oars.

_And, I don't have much to say for this chapter. Other then Cullen really does have to be my favorite LI in DAO, and he really wasn't one. But I loved him so much. So much more than Alistair, or Zevran, or the chicks. Course, I was also rather impressed with Teagan and Cailian too (Cailan would have been most of my Warden's little boy bitch, honestly :D). _

_Anyway, reviews are appreciated._


	3. Chapter 3

Cullen hoisted her back into his arms, marveling at the simple feel of her without the armor creating a barricade between them. She clung to his arm as he helped her over the side of the boat, the muddy bank he had pulled the boat on completely different from what she was used to. Selfishly he let his hand linger on her soft hips as she glanced around, neck stretching and turning back towards the Tower. Then suddenly she shrunk back into herself, glancing up at him timidly.

Cullen gently pushed her up the bank, entirely not ready to have a conversation yet. He pulled the boat the rest of the way and then slung the bag over his shoulder. She stood exactly where he had pushed her, dark eyes wide as she glanced around the entire bank, shrinking away from the trees. He wasn't able to stifle his smile, the thrill that he felt when she reached for him. She tried to hide from the wild that he had thrown her into.

But then he realized that he was probably just the lesser- well known- evil of the two.

He led her up and away from the Tower. Every time she glanced over her shoulder, and then timidly up at him, he felt like saying something. Andraste herself would come and condemn him to the void before he would be able to figure out what to say, though. Instead he swallowed and continued to lead her away. Instead of paying her attention- and Maker was it difficult- he tried to plan farther ahead.

There was a small village east of them. They would be able to buy a room at an inn. Before that, however, he was going to have to figure out how to hide Amell. Her robes were a rather dead give away that she was a mage. Even if most had never seen a mage in real, their robes were still a tell tale sign of magic. Rubbing his brows he pushed the foliage out of the way for her. She was slow, and more than once held his arm to keep herself steady.

That was why they didn't get very far. He found a small alcove for them, keeping her away from the opening. Not because he was scared she'd run- though he was. He didn't imagine she'd survive well out on her own. Especially since they weren't even at a village. But more to keep himself between her and the dangers. He honestly did not think she realized that though. Andraste's dimpled ass, they needed to talk.

Instead of opening his mouth Cullen stroked the fire to keep them warm, preparing the food as she huddled near the fire. Cullen couldn't work up the nerve the entire night to speak to her. Nothing was passed between them beside food and murmurs of 'eat' and 'rest now'. He didn't miss the way she looked at him, watched him. More than once it looked like she was going to say something. But something stopped her every time. Cullen wasn't sure if it was the way he tensed, because he did a few times, or something internal.

Being honest with himself, like he tried to be, he was glad they postponed the talk.

Cullen dozed off and on through the whole night. She lay curled up in the blankets, her light breathing his only comfort. He saw the golden ribbons of the morning sun and he began to pull out a little bit of the food for breakfast, having to take out half the contents to find it. The noise ended up waking her. He glanced up in time to see the blankets pool around her waist, her dark eyes blinking. Slowly she arched and stretched, giving a quiet mewl before a sleepy "Cullen?"

He tried not to get too excited over any of it.

Still he blushed and found the fire to be very interesting. "So it was real," she muttered, rubbing at her eyes before fighting the blankets for freedom. When he said nothing her shoulders slumped. "Well good morning, anyway." She then turned away from him, face twisted in an angry sort of pout, and began unwrapping her hair from the bun she wore it in. The brown hair fell in tangled knots and she stubbornly began running her fingers through it.

Swallowing the lump in his throat he uttered a small "Good morning" in response. She gave him a side long glance through her hair. The awkward silence then filled the air as he served breakfast. It persisted because he had no idea what to say. Should he apologize? Would it be better to just carry on and ignore that he essentially just kidnapped her? He frowned and ran his hand through his hair as he finished. Instead of any of that he awkwardly stood and stammered out an embarrassing "Stay here. I'm going to- I'll be right back I have to- I mean- relieve my- um"

She held a dainty hand up over her mouth, trying to hide her mirth. "I will stay."

Face like a ripe strawberry, Cullen fled the alcove and made sure he was far enough away that she wouldn't hear. Because that would be horrifying. He quickly relieved himself and spent the next two minutes rubbing his face and muttering encouraging mantra's to himself. He could do this. This was for her. He would do this. He'd keep her safe. Licking his dry lips he turned back to the alcove.

It was amazing what a moment alone did for his confidence. And how easily it all shattered when he saw her. Even just sitting there, completely innocent, he lost all his nerve to say anything he had planned. She sat next to the bag, closing the flap with a pleased smile. When she saw him, it grew. "You know, if you were just a little more organized you could have fit the rest of the kitchen in the bag." She patted it, and he did notice it did not seem stuffed to the brim anymore.

"What?"

"Packing it. I organized the contents. You can fit more now." She tittered again at him, shaking her head before standing, dusting off the dirt on her robes. "Where are we going?"

"Um- there is a small village just-" He pointed.

"Okay. I get it."

"Do you have anything else to wear?" he said suddenly, and then realized the stupidity of that question.

"Just my smalls," she said with a light hearted shrug. Then with his blush she giggled. It took Cullen a full moment to realize she did it on purpose. He scowled, but that was the worst he could do against her. "Apologies. No, I do not have anything else besides my robes. I can, however, wrap up in the blankets."

"That will have to do," he said, rubbing his neck and staring at the dieing embers. The tension slowly came back, and everything that needed to be said was ignored. His hand went to the satchel he still carried, where her blood was. All of it was ignored. Cullen swallowed hard as he hoisted up the bag, nodding to her and they began walking. She shrunk down, leaning close to him as she stared at the wild.

That was why he didn't tell her; he wouldn't tell her in the wild.

No, they were going to a village where they would be at an inn. He would give her the blood there. He would tell her everything there. If she hated him and was disgusted with him, then she'd at least be in civilization. With people. Not lost out here with bandits and wolves. If she ran, it wouldn't be far. That's why Cullen waited. Not because he was terrified of her actually being disgusted and leaving, he told himself.

The fact that he was trying to delude himself was not missed.

Cullen spotted the small village and turned back to her. She was standing on her toes, her slippers torn and dirty he realized, as she stretched to see it as well, using a tree for balance. She slowly had moved away from him. She began touching the wild life, petting the leaves and bark of trees. Cullen admitted he was saddened by the lack of contact between them as the day dragged on.

She rocked back, glancing up at him questioningly. "I should wrap up now, yes?" He nodded, swinging the bag around to get the blanket. She was busy pulling up her sleeves, rolling them. He flinched and stared at the ground, the green yellow and black bruise along her arm like a blow to his face. He slowly unfolded the blanket, eyes of course trailing back to her. He stared at her feet, at the dirty and torn slippers. And then she reached down and was hiking up her robe. His face went red and he was looking at the trees opposite of her so fast he should have gotten whiplash. "What are you doing?" he stammered.

"They can't see my robes, right? Well, I'm going to have to bare some skin. The blankets won't hide my legs and I need my arms to wrap and hold the blanket." Then she gently pulled the blanket from his hands and wrapped it around her. "See? I'll kick off my shoes before we enter the village. We'll have to make up a story why I'm... less clothed but..."

His eyes stayed on her milky legs as she spoke. Realizing she was waiting for him he coughed and stuttered. "Let's go then." He rubbed his face as he led the way down. She followed after him clumsily. They stopped for her to toss the slippers and then she held his arm and they slowly walked in, even more mindful of where he led her. Her slippers had been of little protection. Now she had even less.

They found the inn easily enough. It was the largest building in the village. She glanced around, one hand wrapped in his shirt as she took in the decorations of the inn with wide eyes. The furs, the fires, the dark lighting was all foreign to her. "A room, please," he said to the large man behind the counter. He felt her startle and turn to face him.

"A room?" the man said with a smirk, his tongue traveling across his teeth, eyeing her curiously. That, Cullen could handle. Even the meaning behind the question. It was to be expected. It was the leers from the men sitting at the tables that had him tongue tied with anger. They eyed and howled wolfishly at her, barely over the general noise of the other men. They elbowed each other and watched them. He glanced at Amell who moved to stand closer to him, hidden from them, before turning to the man.

"Yes, a room please," she said pointedly, though so quietly. As if she was still in the Tower. "We are a married couple. But the bandits that attacked our little traveling band took my ring." She made a point to rub where the ring would have been sadly. "We were able to salvage some things. The bandits left in a rush after a display from my love here. But they destroyed so much."

Cullen made sure his jaw didn't drop and ruin her lie. "You poor dear!" another voice said. The inn keepers wife no doubt. "Get them a room dear! And at a decent price you hear me? Come along dears. You're newly weds. I can tell. Still aren't used to being married, and a fright like that in your honey moon period. Poor things."

She led them up the stairs after Cullen passed over the coins. "I suppose in the end you're quite lucky though. Smart too. To travel through the woods without a man who knows how to handle his sword would be foolhardy. Smart to marry one too," the old woman said with a wink before laughing loudly. Both she and Cullen blushed bright red. The old lady noticed. "Ah, to be young again." She opened the door for them with a bright smile.

"Thank you," they said in unison.

"You two deserve a bed! And a lock. All them scoundrels down there. They fondle me, and I know I'm not a looker anymore. So you protect your wife, young man. And I'll see to it that you get a dress. I'll send my daughter up. Can't tell your size under that blanket, but you're smaller than my girl, so it'll do."

"Thank you. Again, for everything," Amell said with a bow of her head. The woman shooed them farther inside and shut the door. Amell blushed and stepped away from Cullen, letting the blanket loosen and inspected the room.

Cullen, for all he was worth, and no control of his tongue around her. "Married?"

She was still blushing, but shrugged and answered calmly. He wished he had that control. "You weren't saying anything, and I didn't like those men. Don't look at me like that. I'm sheltered, not stupid. I don't want to be anywhere alone with those men. And if I am claimed by you, that might deter some of them. Besides, I read it in a book once. The heroine and her hero pretended to be attacked by bandits and were married and- I thought it would work here. You don't look clean and your clothes are a mess and- I'm rambling. Apologies."

"I- No. It's a good idea." She beamed a smile at his praise and then turned and began inspecting the room. She poked the bed, leaned against the window, and played with the mirror. All so amazed. Cullen set the bag down and his sword. He hid his absolute elation over how she had treated him. About how she called him her love. He tried to hide the anger. Just remembering what they had said or did in response to her legs made him grit his teeth. It was better not to dwell on any of that.

The room was silent until the door knocked again. Amell made her way over, opening it and smiling at the old lady. "Daughter said she was too busy. Said if the man was already married then she had no reason to come up. Blasted girl and her 'go to the big city with her roguish white knight' dreams. Bah. She'll grow out of it. And she'll be polite she will."

"I'm sorry to say, she'd of been disappointed anyway with my husband, if that is what she wants. He is no rogue."

The woman barked some laughter. "Well here's her dress. And some shoes. You go ahead and keep it now. A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be running around in smalls and a blanket. Just, if my husband asks, tell him you paid for it. I don't need him pouting the rest of your stay. Because he will. Grown men are fictional my dear. And I hope you knew that before you wed yourself."

"Thank you. You are too kind."

"Bah. I'm just jealous of your legs." The woman winked and then shuffled back to the stairs.

Amell closed the door and glanced back at him. "I'll just go out to the kitchen. Get some lunch," Cullen said. She nodded and he heard the door lock behind him. He wondered how much those men had honestly bothered her. Gritting his teeth he made his way down to get some lunch for the both of them. That was the best thing he could do. At the bottom of the stairs he avoided the crowd and instead focused and getting to the back. He knocked on the door frame as he peered inside.

"Pardon me?" he said.

"Well now, didn't know you'd be such a cute one," he heard. Cullen jumped, turning to see a young woman smiling at him, holding the tray of dirty dishes against her hip. She gave him what she must have thought was a sultry smile as she moved to dump the dishes. "What can I do for you, handsome?"

"I was hoping to get some lunch. For me and my wife." It felt so odd to say that. He glanced back at all the men. He was mildly curious why most weren't out in the fields but didn't care enough to question it. Not to her anyway.

She glanced at him, seemed thoughtful a moment, then said, "In your rooms then? I'll bring it up."

"I'll wait. It's fine."

She gave him a smile, and he mildly wondered what she thought he had said but definitely didn't care to ask that. Giving her a polite smile and nod, he turned to find a table and chair to wait at.

_So, here we go. I'll admit, these were about the easiest parts for me to write. Also, they were written in a slightly better part of my life. Not that currently I'm living in hell or anything. But it's always the subtle things that affect my writing, more than the large big obstacles. Which is why, those on LJ have probably noticed I've slowed a bit. And I apologize for that. But this will be finished. Especially so long as everybody keeps writing me reviews and motivating to get off my ass (or sit on it I guess) and update._

_Because I give reviewers the right to tell me to hurry the hell up if I take too long. Because I sometimes do._


	4. Chapter 4

Cullen took the tray up, trying hard not to think about the inn keepers daughter and her awkward advances she had made before he scurried off. She was homely, but nothing like what Cullen wanted. What he wanted- he shouldn't have been thinking about. Cullen swallowed and knocked on the door. "Amell," he called.

There was a click and she peaked out at him. "Amell? Really? Do you know my first name?" she asked.

Cullen flushed and stepped in after she opened the door. Instead of answering he declared that he brought lunch with him. It was safer to call her Amell. At least, back in the Tower. It put distance between him and her. Could he afford that now? Did he want to break what little barriers he had? A part of him said, yes, of course, why was he even asking? But Cullen usually ignored that part.

He set the tray on the old vanity, watching her in the mirror as he set everything. She pouted at his obvious avoiding of the question. Her long hair was pulled in a braid, pulled over her shoulder so she could fiddle with the end. The dress was a bit too large for her, the white fabric clashing against her dark hair. Because that was what he was paying attention to. Not the way that the dress hung much lower than it was supposed to, showing more of her milky cleavage than he'd ever seen before. He wasn't looking at that.

Maker help him, Cullen was no match against clothes.

He turned and handed her a bowl. She smiled in thanks, curling her legs as she ate. Whenever they weren't doing anything, the silence ate at him. If they were walking, packing, anything else he could forget that they needed to talk. He was running out of excuses as well. In fact, his latest one was pretty thin. She's eating. Wouldn't want to ruin her meal. Cullen frowned, giving a sigh.

"Cullen," she said finally, spoon clinking as she set it down. "We need to talk. I need to make an apology of sorts. Really. It's been eating me up."

Cullen tensed, cursing under his breath. "Apologize?"

"I do. I attacked you, and that was very wrong. I'm sorry. I completely panicked. I thought... I thought you might have been a thrall for some blood mage. As soon as you said escape I... well that's what the blood mages would have been after and it would be the perfect set up to get more mages to... do whatever Uldred was doing to them. We... normal mages wouldn't fight a Templar, right? I panicked. I apologize."

"You thought..." That explained her sudden shift of behavior. What worried him a little more, just a small part of him that often condemned what he did- was doing, was very worried about how good of a plan that would be for a blood mage. "I forgive you."

She watched him for a moment, and he wonders what she was thinking. "Well, thank you." There was more silence. Cullen was trying to work up the courage to begin what he had to say. What was eating him up. Tell her what was in his satchel. He took too long, apparently. "Why did you drag me out of the Tower?"

Because I love you.

Not that Cullen honestly had the guts to actually say it. To her no less. It was still raw and surprising just to think it. But what else could he say? Everything but that, he supposed.

"I couldn't just leave you there," he said.

"Why?"

Darn her, Cullen thought. Though she had every right to know. "Because the Tower was going to fall. I couldn't let you be there when that happened." He pushed the bowl away from him. "All those blood mages, and Uldred. We Templars weren't enough."

"How do you know that?"

"A feeling. Uldred isn't going to have just one or two abominations. I wouldn't be surprised to find out he was one." Unlike the other Templars, Cullen watched the mages. Not just for signs of abomination or blood magic. He just watched. He spoke to them. He never liked just being the living statue against the wall.

She nodded her head slowly, setting her bowl to the side as well. "But why'd you take me when you ran?" Her voice was very calm, almost calculated. Hiding some deeper emotion. It was the tone a Mother took when she tested him on honesty, or after catching him in the act of some sort of sin.

Course, worse than her tone was the implications of that sentence. When he ran. As if he was a coward and ran from the battle. Cullen however pushed his anger away and tried to think of a better way to answer. "I couldn't leave you to suffer that."

Her eyes narrowed. "Am I to suffer you then?"

Cullen sputtered, the anger pushing back. "What? No! I mean- no! I just really... I just wanted to see you safe."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? So you just saved me out of the goodness of your heart?"

Cullen glared back at her now. "Yes. I expect nothing from you. I just want to keep you safe."

"So you're going to be my little watchdog, Cullen?"

"You don't want me around then?"

"You- I could have been a blood mage Cullen. I could have been siding with Uldred. Did you think of that?"

No. Honestly, Cullen couldn't imagine her with Uldred. He hadn't thought she... he glanced down at her arms. All of the mages robes had long sleeves. As did that dress. Cullen swallowed, eyes traveling back up to her face. He didn't quite understand the argument, but the tension, and his ignored anger, Cullen wasn't thinking. "You aren't." The Maker wouldn't be so cruel to him.

"Wouldn't He though?" He hadn't realized he said that a loud. "You're just like the rest I guess. Stupid Templar. Stuck on your faith, living on your knees. Too cowardly to stand. Don't even know what you want." She stood with a flourish making for the door. "Mages too far beneath you, so cursed for you to ever do-"

No. She wasn't allowed to just stomp out on him. If she wanted to leave him- just the thought made his heart hurt- she could. He couldn't stop her. Not really. But he couldn't let her leave thinking so bad about him. He couldn't let her bad mouth him. Andraste's knickers, he was angry, he was panicking, and he could feel her magic. Just the taste of it, a tickle across his senses.

Andraste watch over him, her magic made him stupid.

He grabbed her arm. "You don't get to leave angry."

"You don't get to tell me what to do Cullen." She tried to wrench her arm from his. He didn't let her go. "Release me."

"No. Not until you understand."

"I understand everything. I was wrong. I get it. And unless you're going to take me back-"

"Would you stop talking!" Cullen almost yelled, pushing her back until she was against the wall, stopping her struggling. "I don't know what has you so upset, you were fine before we started talking! But Maker help me, you will listen until I am done talking, Solona!"

She stiffened when he said her name. "Then say your peace, Templar" she said snapped. But Cullen was not scared of her. But the anger between them sizzled and Cullen tried to breath because he was so close to her. Without his armor he could feel her body heat. If he just leaned forward a little more he could-

"Listen, what you two want to do after a haggard night of running it between you two. And Templar and Naughty Mage can be very fun. But could you two keep it down?" a voice said from behind the door. Sounded like the innkeeper himself.

The anger disappeared near instantly, both of them blushing. Solona's mouth dropped, dark eyes wide as her gaze turned to the door. "I thought Anders had been kidding when he said people... they think we're... were we that loud?" She looked completely aghast over it all.

Cullen would have laughed had he not come to the near same conclusion.

She tried to gently pull her hands from his, face turning remorseful. "Listen, Cullen-"

"No. I told you to be quiet until I'm done." He took a deep shuddering did not need anger to tell her. He did not! "Solona, you are the single most important thing to me in this world or the next. I do not need to check if you are a blood mage- did not need to because I know you wouldn't be. A feeling. I want to stay with you. Protect you, if you'll let me. If you need to get away from me" he stuttered as he tried to continue that painful thought "then you can walk right out that door. I won't stop you. I won't hurt you."

Well, he told her everything but that, he supposed.

He released her wrist, moving his hand to trail his knuckles down her cheek, giving her a smile. It almost felt good to finally tell her. Even if she just stood there, staring at him, mouth open in shock, eyes wide. Finally, she said, "You really mean all that don't you?"

"I wouldn't lie to you."

"I... I guess not." She licked her lips, looking completely deflated from her earlier flourish of anger. "I don't know what to say to that, Cullen."

"I don't need you to say anything." It would have been foolish for him to think she returned his feelings.

"I... am sorry. For what I said before. I didn't really understand and I didn't know what you were doing and..."

He shook his head, giving her a smile. "You're not going to leave?"

"No. No, I won't. I..." She chewed on her lip again for a moment. "I'd just get myself killed probably." She gave him a forced smile and forced cheer. But the relief overrode any worry he would have had over that. His smile down to her was completely genuine.

"Thank you."

She pulled at her braid bit before glancing at him. "People really- erm- play Templars and naughty mages? Why?"

"I don't know," Cullen said, shrugging.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't understand the appeal." Cullen laughed, shaking his head. Spotting the satchel as he did so. Right, he still had to do that. "What's wrong now?" she asked, and he realized he was frowning again.

He shook his head again, stepping back farther and reaching for the bag. She curled the end of her braid around her finger, watching him closely. He pulled out the vial, turning and extending his hand to her. "This is yours, Solona."

"My... you got my phylactery?" He nodded. She started three sentences before settling on, "Thank you." She didn't sound so sure of herself, but gently took it from his hand. "Can I?"

"Whatever you want."

She stared at it, cradling it in her hands. "I keep waiting for you to say this is all a trick or test I've failed or something."

"No tests. No tricks. No lies. Not to you."

She avoided his eyes as she walked away from the wall, trailing her finger across the paper with her name scrawled across it. He smiled quietly to himself, even as she fidgeted and inspected the vial, and sat to finish his lunch. Suddenly the silence was companionable instead of tense. She sat closer to him- or he to her? But Cullen felt so much better.

At least, so long as he didn't think about how close they had been and how he had shoved her against the wall like-

Bad thoughts, Cullen thought with a quiet shuddering sigh. They went for a walk before dinner, Solona taking the time to destroy the vial in the trees. Away from the prying, gossiping villagers. And they gossiped. Cullen was already beginning to hear the stories and speculation of the two of them. They had only been there perhaps four hours but everybody already knew.

Everybody whispered behind their backs, but when they looked the villagers offered them free apples or gossip about others. People the two of them didn't know. But the villagers wanted them to know. Solona took it in stride. But then that was the Tower, wasn't it? Everybody gossiped about everybody. And you didn't have to know anybody for them to tell you all about them. Most of the women didn't seem to want to talk to him anyway. And the men were at work. Smith, fields, or simply avoiding their wives at the inn and tavern.

Solona stayed near him, usually. Leaning towards him more often then not. They probably took it as the whole 'being a loving young couple' thing. Cullen knew she was probably still timid, afraid of everything being so open and free. Of all the new faces. He was lucky she didn't have a panic attack from the overlord of everything being new big and completely in her face. When the crowds began to shuffle through, making their way home or to the tavern for some drinks, she wrapped her arm around his, fingers threading together and she clung to him. Desperately hoping to not get lost.

Cullen, of course, wouldn't let her.

_So, everything was down hill from here, and that's always the hardest part anyway (if we were going to ignore my writing block- ish mood I'd been in). Anyway, I don't have much to say about these parts. It's been terribly hard to right in limited POV of just Cullen (usually I totally go God like and write from everybody). I sometimes worry my Amell is not all that great, but then at the same time leaving her vague leaves a lot of her for you guys to make up. Which is a good thing too (just, not might usual style and all). _

_Anyway, reviews are appreciated._


	5. Chapter 5

Cullen was in no hurry to move from the small village. He had no idea where to go, anyway. There was a fair chance he would be recognized in a larger town. And Solona was quite content to simply explore life outside of the Tower in the small little village. She even was beginning to go out without him. Small trips, but she always came back sunny, gushing about what happened to him eagerly.

The only real problem was that Cullen's back was beginning to hurt.

He refused to sleep in the bed with her. After the first night she had offered, blushing and pulling at her braid as she did so, for him to use the bed as well. She trusted him to not do anything ungentlemanly. But Cullen had refused and used the chair. Temptation was mean, and Cullen wasn't going to tease it any more than he already did.

Cullen was sitting in the bar when he heard the gossip. Some of the men sitting farther away from him were talking about the rumors they had heard. One was a traveler, bringing more fear as he spoke about the Darkspawn horde. Apparently it had already completely destroyed the small town of Lothering. And spreading fast. Some of the men were scoffing, speaking of Loghain. Others cowered, muttering prayers and spent extra time at their little run down Chantry.

Cullen reminded himself that they were in danger.

Finishing his drink he made his way back up to the room. Darkspawn were ravaging Fereldan. The Tower could possibly explode. He wasn't sure where to go, but Solona was not safe here, and that was bad. They were too close to the Tower, really. Any survivors from the Tower could end up in the little village. The Blight was not slowing. Cullen brooded until Solona walking into their room, carrying a basket of the free fruit and some fish they had given her during her walk. She was humming a song about a lady and her knight- he only knew it because she sang it all the time to the young apprentices she took under her wing when they showed up- and set it down on the small nightstand. It was then she noticed his expression.

"Cullen?"

He glanced up, giving her a small but honest smile. "I see the villagers love you."

"I... yes. They gifted me with these. I think it's always a holiday for them if there are strangers in town. Perhaps it's the only excitement they ever get?" She stepped around to stand in front of him. "But something is wrong."

"Nothing, really. I am just thinking. We should probably start moving on."

"Oh. I was wondering if we were," she said, trailing off. She leaned in as if she was going to say something else and then suddenly thought better of it. Instead she smiled, clasping her hands behind her. "Should I pack up?"

"No- not yet. I want to see if I can get some coins first. We are getting low."

She nodded. "Can I help?"

Cullen shook his head. "No need. I- we don't need much. It shouldn't take very long." He stood with a smile. She gave a slow nod, losing her smile a bit as she turned around and went to the basket of fruit. She took out the fish, taking them out and moving to the door. Cullen watched her go- likely taking the fish down to salt and ice them.

It took Cullen one week to work up the sovereigns he wanted. As they left Solona stopped to say goodbye to over half the small village, waving as he guided her over the road. Cullen quickly found that their time on the road was his favorite. In the small towns and villages he took them to- avoiding the larger more populated areas, and completely avoiding the south- she went off on her own. She spent the days walking the markets and spending time playing with the children. She spoke to the ladies, and batted eyes at some of the men.

But on the roads she only had eyes for him.

Cullen hated how selfish that sounded, but it was completely true. Cullen wasn't sure how to really woo a woman. Templars were allowed to have loves and spouses. The only rule was that mages weren't allowed spouses. Mages were supposed to be chaste. Templars were supposed to not sin- but loving and marrying was not a sin. Still, life in the Chantry did not teach Cullen how to woo a woman. It was easier to woo her, Cullen thought at least, when it was just them.

But Cullen wanted her to love him in return. He wanted her to want him. Sometimes he thought he was making progress. He'd catch her looking at him with a secret little smile. Sometimes if their hands brushed she blushed and muttered apologies. Most of the time, however, Cullen felt like a charging bull in a Chantry. Always stuttering and acting a fool. It was always when he was thinking, trying. When he just had to- provide, protect- it was easy. He didn't even stutter when he spoke.

Cullen was cursed, he was sure.

Cullen shifted his bag, searching the trail. They had been walking for most of the day and it was about time to stop for a meal. Solona was better, quickly developing a stamina to handle the long walks but Cullen didn't like to push her. Finding a shadowy grove to rest in he set the bags down, letting her pull it from him and begin the meal. She always seemed peeved when he tried to help.

The meal passed with small talk, and Cullen reclined against a tree as she walked around. They should have been moving on. But she was smiling and laughing as she watched the birds or picked some of the wildflowers. He hadn't meant to let his mind drift. There were dangers. Darkspawn could be anywhere. They were lucky to have not ran into them. He usually was diligent anyway. But his eyes closed and his mind went elsewhere. If asked he couldn't even say what it was he was thinking about.

But he felt the gentle caress of something terribly soft and his eyes snapped open. He instantly blushed seeing how close her face was to his. She gave him a smile, her own cheeks rosy as she finished settling the crown of flowers on his head. She giggled, fixing it when it tipped a little before finally settling back on her knees. "There."

Cullen couldn't stop the stupid smile spreading on his face, gingerly touching the crown. "Thank you," he said, since there was nothing else to say.

She reached up again, fixing a flower so that it sat right against the others. "I was thinking," she said. "We should leave Fereldan." She gingerly glanced down at him, pulling a bit at her braid as her hands pulled away from his crown.

Cullen's eyes must have gotten too wide because she started to ramble. "I honestly don't have any clue where to go. The only other place I know is Kirkwall. And I was less than ten when I left. And less than seven when I entered the Gallows so, really, I don't even know Kirkwall that well. But, you are obviously so tense here in Fereldan. And the darkspawn are not slowing down. I am absolutely terrified of fighting them. Their very essence kills the land they say. Lothering is decimated. I can't imagine fighting them. You fighting them." She shrugged. "I thought, away from Fereldan you would relax some and... we could stop traveling so much."

Cullen realized then why she seemed so scared of everything. It wasn't just being in the Tower from a young age. She was from Kirkwall. There was no greenery there. An ocean, and that was about all unless somebody went searching for the swamps. Not that they were easy to miss, but he assumed the city dwellers tried to avoid the swamps. Like most in Denerim avoided leaving the walls. Still, he almost felt hurt that he never knew she was originally from Kirkwall. "Kirkwall?" he said stupidly, instead of anything else he wanted to.

"Yes. We don't have to go there. But they've always been desperate for Templars. And you are a good one. Most of the time." She gave him a teasing smile. "In fact, if you play your cards right you can easily get a Mother to send you. I remember Senior Enchantor Orsino talking constantly about how the Mothers needed to send more men. Grand Cleric Elthina apparently has been trying to work on it.

"You are an amazing Templar. You're kind and never took advantage of us. And you've got good instincts." She shrugged. "Meredith was being set up to take over things when I left, and really, you and her might get along alright. She was stern, mean even, but fair. At least she was. Orsino does not like her. He says some rather off putting things in his letters to me."

"You still speak to him?" Cullen wasn't sure why he was jealous over that.

"Of course. He took me under his wing when I showed up in the Gallows. He's very kind. Very upset over the mages plight and all. He is probably the only reason I was able to keep in contact with my mother until she died."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You aren't the one to kill her." She shook her head, and Cullen was going to ask about that odd statement, but she continued quickly. "But it doesn't matter. None of my family are still there. Well, my uncle might be, but he is inconsequential really. I'm not even sure if I've even spoken to him before. And the Amell family has lost all their fortune there. That's not why I wanted to go to Kirkwall. I don't even care. Its just, I don't' have a claim to any place. I have no 'national pride' or whatever. And I know little about anything. It's all just book knowledge. We could go wherever. I just thought..." She shook her head, stopping her ramblings. "Anyway. I just... you could go back to being a Templar and put me back in a Circle. If I go back to one, I'd like it to be the Gallows."

Cullen knew what she was doing. She was giving him a choice to stop with the foolishness. An easy way out of everything he had started. He glared at her for doing so. "No. I'll not go back to that. You are free now. I'm not a good Templar. Not when it comes to you, Solona."

She blushed, and he realized how close he had gotten when he leaned forward, holding her hands, hoping to convey everything to her. When all she did was give him a wide eyed stare Cullen did the only thing he could think of. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He wrapped one hand around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head. He had kissed a few women before Solona but he felt clumsy still against her plush mouth, tongue timidly sliding across her lips.

She on the other hand was graceful. She pressed back against him, back arching to mold her body against his. Her tongue twirled with his, agile and doing delicious sinful things back. Her hands twisted in his shirt, pulling him even closer if possible. His hands slid down her body, pliant beneath his large hands. Her curves filling his hands. Except he knew she had ended up smaller, likely because of all the traveling, and that was a shame. He spent years watching her, and those quick sparse moments he had held her before- engraved in his depraved mind- he knew she had lost some of her curves.

Cullen groaned into her mouth anyway.

He pushed her back until she was laying down, holding himself over her by his elbow. His other hand remained on her hip, rubbing a circle there with his thumb as he gasped for air. Her chest heaved as she sucked in air, giving an airy giggle and reached up to fix the crown. "It rather ruins the sultry look," she mumbled, hand trailing down to cup he cheek. "But it does suit you."

Cullen chuckled, nuzzling her hand, kissing her wrist. He knew he could take her there. He could have. Flower crown and all. His elation that she had responded made him near delirious. Her curves pressed against him, laid beneath him- he was only a man after all. But he respected her too much. Loved her too much. It was not just lust. He would not take this quick. He would take this slow and give her everything he had. And not on the muddy ground of a grove.

No matter how tight his pants got.

_I have officially caught up with my posts on livejournal now. All of this was somewhat force written, so if you find it to be of lesser quality than earlier chapters, that is why. And I have no beta, so, another excuse. Not that they're very good excuses, but there ya go. As for what I written, the only part I like is Cullen with a crown of flowers. I personally love flower crowns, and big ol' Cullen wearing one is adorable to me. I've always liked to imagine Amell/Surana taking the flowers and herbs brought in for lessons and making crowns for friends- Jowan, Anders, and Cullen included. I was very happy to be able to use that in this story. If I could draw better than I do, I'd have drawn the Dragon Age casts (1 and 2) with crowns of flowers, all bewildered, embarrassed, or happy.  
><em>

_Reviews appreciated, of course._


	6. Chapter 6

Solona was cuddled next to him, the fire not hot enough for either of their liking. Not that they were freezing, but it wasn't comfortable. Cullen kept his arm around her, the blanket pulled tight as she fought sleep. He watched her nod off before eyes snapping open to stare at the fire. "Did you decide what we're doing?" she asked finally, neck craning to try and get a look at his face.

Cullen frowned. "No." She hummed, head rolling down to stare at the fire again. "Will you tell me about your family?"

She tensed in his arms. "It's not a happy story," she said finally, sitting up instead of leaning against him now. She pushed her hair- finally loose of that braid and that made Cullen's heart race- and stared up through her thick lashes at him. "My father was a noble from Orlais, Gwenael. He impregnated my mother out of wedlock. He was never formally accepted as my father- he family did not let him. But Mother vowed he was the only man she ever spread her legs for. But I carry her name- Amell- because I am not allowed his. Or she would have given me his, she said.

"He stayed around for most of my life before I was sent to the Gallows. What I remember of him is vague. He was gentle but had rough timbre to his voice. And the accent." She shrugged. "He was forced to marry when I was... how old was I? I was four. He visited less and Mother began to... she became unahppy. Small things changed.

"My Mother was Revka Amell, daughter to Aristide Amell. Aristide, Grandfather was to be Viscount, and everything was set in order until I shot lightning at a neighbors houseplant after their boy refused to give me back my doll. He had been mocking me with it- her, Dandelion was her name- and I hit the plant instead of him. A blessing, probably."

"Probably?"

"I still don't like the boy." Cullen chocked on his laughter. "He was a jerk."

"Do you even remember his name?"

"No. But they- his family gave my mother grief over that for ages. I was taken away, torn from her arms and they watched from windows. I never did get Dandelion back." She glanced down at her hands. "But my mother fell into a depression. Her cousin ran away with a mage that fled the Gallows about the same time I was taken to the Gallows. She always complained about the injustice of it all. Her cousin had a happy ending with her mageling- a man. And she was allowed neither. Not her mageling or her man. There was no such thing as justice, she would say in her letters. Not in a world where a child was torn from the arms of a wailing mother and refused her father."

Cullen frowned. "I am sorry."

"I barely remember it." She shook her head. "But my mother would never let herself forget. She made herself sick over me being a mageling. She fell into a deep depression. She hung herself. She wrote me one last letter that I received after she was declared dead." She stopped a moment, and then said softly. "I was not allowed to attend her funeral."

"Solona! I-"

"It is nothing. I've long since accepted my mother was weak." She shrugged. "I didn't know her very well anyways." However she let him pull her closer, into his lap so he could nuzzle against her hair in comfort. It seemed more for himself than for her, Cullen knew. "My grandfather wrote to me twice after her death. Sometime after that I was sent to Fereldan. The Gallows were over full, and the Tower was in fact short. I was volunteered to be shipped across. I am docile, demure, whatever you wish to call it. And here my family name means nothing. Here, my name was not set to rule. It was a complete win for the Templars."

"Solona, my love-"

She craned her head back to smile up at him. "I warned you it was not a happy tale."

"You speak of them in a way that breaks my heart."

"I did not know them, Cullen. She is my mother only in name. I don't even remember what her voice sounded like. I know her hand writing, nothing more. I can no more claim the Amells as my family as I can claim Fereldan my nation. I am an outcast to everything outside the Tower. Even the Gallows are foreign to me at this point." She kissed his cheek. "Do not fret over it. I do not."

Cullen wasn't sure how she did. His past was not one of pleasures and happiness, but it was better than that. He had been given to the Chantry for Templar training early, but it had been at an older age and he had understood. His parents were poor and could not support him. Not after his father lost his hand to a nasty infection. He had joined gladly, willing to serve the Maker and Andraste.

Of course, now he sat cuddling with an apostate.

He kissed the top of her head, running his hand through her hair. "It still saddens me, Solona. I wish you-" Did it matter what he wished of her past? No. "You will have a happier future," he promised instead.

Solona stopped to stare at him, wiggling and turning so she could face him head on. The things it did to him shouldn't be mentioned, and Cullen felt dirty for the way her simple movements made him hunger with things he wasn't willing to take. But she held his face in her hands and searched his face for something. And her expression was enough for Cullen to ignore the aches.

"It still amazes me when you say things like that," she whispered, looking ready to cry. "I never know what to say in response." Her thumb ran across his cheekbone, trailing down to trace his lips. Cullen took her hand, kissing each finger before her knuckles, and then her lips.

"You don't ever have to say anything, Solona." And Cullen meant it. He didn't need anything but her safety and her happiness. If he could help her find it with him, that would simply be a blessing and a miracle that he did not deserve but would selfishly take and enjoy.

She slept in his arms that night, and Cullen loved holding her to him. He cradled her against his larger frame, curling around her to protect her from the world when she was most vulnerable. She was pressed flush against him in their tent-their tent! Her body pliant against his harder one, giving so he could press closer. Not that he should have. He teased and toyed with temptation. Tortured himself by letting her wiggle and press herself back against him.

But it was different now.

He would have her, eventually. She kissed him. It would be soon- or later, it mattered little- that he could do as his body willed. He teased himself with no idea when he would be able to stop the sweet torture. It would be days before they had a bed again. But then, if not in the next village his torture would continue. A torture too cruel that left him in too sweet of agony.

It was in the morning that he felt the dull thud in the back of his head- his own heartbeat too loud against his skull- that Cullen realized he needed his lyrium and was beginning to run low. He had rationed what he had stolen from the Tower, praying it would last long enough. He had no idea how to find more. Buying it was so expensive and they did not have the coin for his addiction. Even with how he took the bare minimum, he would easily take up all their coin.

Cullen licked his dry lips, taking a sip of the lyrium before stashing it away with the last bottle. That meant he had a bottle and a half to last him who knew how long. Rubbing his temple, Cullen tried to stave off the pain before Solona woke up. The bottles had to a least last him to the village. He'd have to pray to Andraste- if she even still listened to him- that somebody had more there. Depending on how large it was, their Chantry might not even have any lyrium. Cullen began making breakfast, needing to get his mind off of his addiction.

When she awoke his headache was gone and he gave her an honest smile. She smiled in return and finishing cooking the breakfast for him. She hadn't noticed yet his addiction. He was sure she knew Templars were addicted, but at the end of the day it wasn't something she'd think about. It wasn't something he wanted her to think about. Rubbing at his eyes, Cullen took the whetstones to his sword. He spotted the crown of flowers as he did so, smiling as he gently set it up safe atop his bag. They stayed until he finished sharpening his sword and then began their long trek.

They walked into the larger village hand in hand, Cullen helping her over the muddy ground. They found their way to Blue Bottle Hall, he listening to Solona ramble about odd tavern names and why innkeepers chose them. Most had a story that they were willing to tell- or at least the barkeeper was. Solona, always in love with stories, often listened with an eager ear. Cullen found he had less of an ear for them, but listened none the less.

He bought a room and they made their way up to drop their bags off. Solona tracing the old wood with her fingers as they made their way up, looking at all the pictures and the animal heads hanging as she always did. "Don't they look so happy?' she said, pointing at one paintings.

Cullen saw the smiling couple in the painting, all dressed for their wedding. "They are." She smiled brightly and made her way back up to their room. Cullen followed after her, closing the door and setting his bag down. He stepped out afterwards to go and look for jobs that he could do, trusting her now to be fine on her own. None of it was worth mentioning,the work they had for him. Most of it wouldn't pay for much. But every little bit helped.

They had showed up near dinner time, which meant he was late to dinner. Solona sat at a table sipping something that looked warm. He slid into a chair beside her and she smiled up at him. "Good work today?"

"Yes," he said.

"You don't have to fib, you know. I'm sheltered, not stupid remember? Places like this can't give good work."

"That depends on your definition of good."

"I'd hate to see what just okay, or barely decent would be for you then, Cullen," she said with a smile hidden behind her cup.

Cullen shook his head. Her sharp wit shocked him when it emerged but he was getting used to it. Slowly. Eventually he'd be able to make a comeback, he thought with a smile. "We'll stay here for a few days. We aren't that low on coins."

"If we're going... anywhere we need more."

"Like you said, Solona. We'll get better coin elsewhere." He smirked as she scowled. "Have you eaten?"

"No. I was waiting for you." Cullen felt his heart swell at that simple sentence. She raised her hand to signal the waitress, her other hand stretching the small distance between them to hold his hand.

_Updating here first instead of on lj. First time. Hopefully this chapter is special enough to warrant that right? Writing them as an actual couple now is almost sickly sweet. Especially since that's all there is. The plot is minimal. Anyway, I wanted to expand on the Amell family in Kirkwall in this story, so apologies if it doesn't interest you. But Amell's mother seemed sort of sad to begin with (her father was going to be the Viscount. DA wiki told me so) and since we aren't told their father and she's an Amell and nothing else, I figured Daddy wasn't around. The rest... I don't know. I'm secretly into creepy dark things I guess. But the sadder it was, the more I'd show how detached the mages are from the rest of the world. Their world. Mostly my point._

_Anyway, reviews appreciated._


	7. Chapter 7

Cullen lay in the bed rubbing his temple and avoiding the light. There shouldn't have been any light. It was nighttime. The moon and the stars and candles should not have been nearly as offensive as they were. His lyrium was running out. The Chantry had some. This Chantry was larger- the main Chantry for miles and miles. But he couldn't walk in there and say he was a Templar and needed some. The merchant that was there, having limited amounts of lyrium to sell had the prices so high Cullen would have felt guilty spending their coin on his addiction.

The problem with the addiction was that Cullen hadn't heard of anybody that was able to stop. Some of the older Templars had fought it- needed less of it- but the poison was still needed. Licking his dry lips Cullen burrowed deeper into the pillows. Solona had finally noticed a day ago. The hallucinations hadn't started but he had been temperamental and then nearly collapsed from a migraine. He could still feel his hands shaking beneath the pillows.

He was supposed to be asleep. He had been, for a little bit. Mostly because he just passed out to avoid the pressure in his head. Cullen needed to get more lyrium. The anxiety would be starting soon. Then the hallucinations. Eventually- soon he'd be a bumbling mess. Drooling all over Solona's skirts and pulling his hair out. Imagining Andraste had come to punish him or something. Cullen gave another groan.

The door opened and Cullen forced himself up right to look at the door. Solona was there, face flushed from the cold. Her hair was down, the waves tangled from the wind. Cullen's brows furrowed. She never wore her hair down outside. She quickly crossed the room to sit on the bed beside him. "Here," she said, pushing a bag he did not remember into his arms.

Cullen's movements were sluggish, clumsy as he tried to open the bag, blinking against the lights. His hands didn't stop shaking. She waited, glancing back at the door, standing to go back and lock it as he flipped the lid. Inside the bag was filled with lyrium bottles. He glanced up at her eyes wide. She shrunk down, shoulders hunched as she began to try and explain herself. "You needed it. The Chantry as more than enough. They completely monopolize the entire trade." She gave another shrug. "I took a Sister's dress from the laundry and made my way to the back. Nobody really questioned me. And those that tried to talk to me it was easy to fool. I have the temperament of a Sister I guess. And I know everything about the Chantry. We weren't allowed to miss the sermons in the Tower."

"You-" his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, feeling fuzzy and dry.

"Once I filled the bag I just left through the back." Solona licked her lips. "You'd be surprised how well mages get at sneaking on even ground. After bed time we'd all sneak around sometimes. And the pranks we pulled-" she stopped herself from her rambling. He usually was upset that she always stopped herself. He liked listening to her talk. But with his head pounding he could only be thankful she stopped.

He'd worry about the moral implications of this after his head didn't pound anymore. His hands were shaking so much- anticipation, withdrawal he didn't know- that it was hard to get the cork out of the bottle. The lyrium burned his mouth, burned down his parched throat, made his lungs feel like they were going to explode, his stomach churn and twist uncomfortably. But the guzzled it like he always did.

Breathing deeply Cullen closed his eyes and felt the soft lull of sleep tempting him as the pressure began to ebb away. But they couldn't stay. She just stole from the Chantry. And while it was plausible- the Chantry would never think anybody would steal from it!- the implications were still very bad. If the Chantry noticed, if they were caught- Cullen groaned and forced himself to stand. "Shouldn't you rest?" she said, rushing forward to steady him. She was so small she wouldn't be much help if he just toppled over, but the gesture was appreciated.

"As much as I'd like to, you just stole from the Chantry. We're leaving now."

"Isn't that more suspicious?"

"Suspicious is not our problem." He made his way towards the bags.

"I think it is. We'll leave in the morning." She pulled on his arm and he realized he didn't even have the strength to struggle against her. Or he really did not want to. She went down with him onto the bed and that made it all the harder to struggle against her. "We'll leave like normal people. They won't notice in a bit. I took from the back of the stash."

She might have said more but Cullen was already falling asleep, nuzzling into her neck and he held her close against him. His sleep was deep and it took him forever to wake up. He remembered her shaking his shoulder once and then again some time later. He grumbled at her, grabbing her annoying hand and pulling her back into the bed.

"Cullen, no. You wanted to leave remember?" she said, poking him in the chest, her nail biting into his skin. "Get up."

Cullen opened an eye and stared at her. She had a very no-nonsense expression. There was no sort of argument to that sort of expression. That's what he got for falling in love with a women that babysat the young children for most of her life. Cullen groaned and sat up, relinquishing his hold on her. He glanced at the window. The sun wasn't up yet, though the sky was turning a golden orange.

He swung his legs over and made his way to the wash bin, splashing his face with the water and glancing at the mirror. He hadn't had the chance to shave, he realized, fine stubble across his jaw. They didn't have time now, though, and he was forced to just scratch at it as he put his boots back on- having slept in his clothes. Her hair was braided and pinned, her clothes changed and she sat in the chair waiting for him. Her smaller bag- satchel really- at her feet.

Cullen rubbed his head, still drowsy and a light headache at the edge of his senses. But he already felt so much better. He honestly wished the Chantry to the cussing Void for this. He always had. It had always been the one thing he hadn't agreed on. Though, what did he say? Don't give me the lyrium? Except it gave them their abilities. Still, they didn't have to get so addicted, did they? Cullen hoisted up his bag and looked at her. "Are you ready for this?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"As I'll ever be," she said, standing and smoothing her dress. He led the way out, keeping her close as they walked. Both made sure to stay visible, saying goodbye to those they passed. Make sure they didn't look like they were sneaking. Still, Cullen made sure they rushed out of that town. He made sure they did not stop until the sun and crested and began its descent. They walked while they ate.

Solana, bless her, did not complain.

When they finally stopped she looked haggard, falling off her feet with a grunt, reaching down to pull off her boots and rub her feet. Her hair was falling out of her bun, her cheeks red from the strenuous walk. She glanced up at him from under her lashes as he began starting the fire for dinner. "We're going south. Back tracking," she said, stretching her legs out and leaning back on her hands. She kicked her boots aside viciously.

"I know," he said, fighting with the tie wrapped around their salted meat.

"Well I know you know. I was wondering why," she huffed.

Cullen glanced back up at her. "The easiest way to Kirkwall is going to be from the southern docks. It'll be cheaper. The sooner we get there the better."

"Kirkwall?"

"You're okay with that?" he said, suddenly panicking. He dropped the meat. Thankfully he hadn't been able to untie it yet.

"Of course. I just didn't think you were going to go for it."

Cullen nodded, swallowing the panic until it disappeared again. "We're going to have to be a lot more careful." He didn't want to scare her. He also knew she wasn't stupid. She knew the darkspawn were there. But he had to say something.

She frowned and nodded, laying back down to stare at the clouds. At least until his grunting annoyed her enough. She sat back up and crawled over to take it from him. She bumped her hip with him and he scooted over so she could begin cooking it. Cullen watched her work, desperately trying to not think about the darkspawn dragging her away from was hard, though, with the rumors all about Lothering and that it was spreading.

Cullen pulled her closer as she turned the meat. She glanced up at him and he wondered if she knew he was terrified. She didn't say anything though. She let him hold her and cooked the meat. He buried his face in her hair, closing his eyes and trying to ignore anything that wasn't her.

_Short chapter today. I didn't want to force more into this chapter. So for this chapter, I would like to apologize for the shortness of Cullen's withrdawl. But nothing I was doing was working. I've had family members go through it and it sucks and I didn't really want to write about it. But I was going to because it would have shown more and some people were wanting things with the addiction and I knew I **had**_ to address it_- but then Amell would not let it go that far for it to be more than headaches. She'd be smart enough to figure it out. I would have written her sneaking through the Chantry to get the lyrium but everything before this had been just in Cullen POV and suddenly switching to her POV did not seem right. So I apologize because I feel like I've gypped all of you. But then at the same time I can't really see it going through differently. So, apologies if this displeased anybody._

_Still, review and let me know you're thoughts._


	8. Chapter 8

"So, what pranks did you guys play?" Cullen asked as they walked. It had been nagging him the more he was trying to ignore the way the earth was wrong.

Solona stumbled, eyes wide. "Pardon?"

"The pranks? You mentioned them."

"Oh. Right. Of course." Solona glanced up at him. "Um, one is that, um, you remember the whiskey you guys brought in for celebration? We snuck out one night and poured all the salt into it."

Cullen stopped to glare at her. "That was you?"

"Us. Us. All of us. The apprentices." She chewed on her lip to keep from smiling. Cullen stammered, trying to tell her how much they had destroyed that party. Until he realized that no mages were allowed- drunk mages were troublesome and dangerous- and suddenly realized maybe he knew why they did it. "And we would sneak around at night and steal your things. Not yours. Templars. Like your sashes. Or helmets. And we'd stick them somewhere else for you guys to find."

"I never found my helmet."

"You didn't?" she said, perhaps a little too sweetly.

"Did you take my helmet?" Cullen rounded on her, not sure why he was smiling so much.  
>"No," she said, and he tried to keep the smile on his face. "I asked Anders to steal it for me. In return I convinced Neria to forgive him. Or talk to him, at least. They had been in an arguement over him leaving, I believe."<p>

"I never found my helmet."

"It was on the statue on third level. By now everybody probably thinks the statue has a helmet."

Cullen tried to think of something not stupid to say to that. "Why didn't you?"

"Because Anders was better than I at the sneaking and stealing thing. And you were very protective of your helmet. I got your sash before."

"You took that?" His face went red. Not because he got yelled at for misplacing his sash, but because he had used it for special quick clean ups. Cullen tried to quickly come up with how many times he had lost his three sashes and when each one was and-

Solona screamed and Cullen's head shot down to see the hand twisting around her ankle. It pulled at her boots and she clung to him for balance. He felt his world narrow to her as her entire body began to crackle and lightning shot across her body until the creature- darkspawn gave a how and let go. He quickly pushed her behind him, drawing his blade with his other hand.

"Maker help us," he whispered.

He jumped to see the darkspawn clawing out of the earth freeze solid, mid roar as it reached for him. "You're sword would maybe be more helpful than the Maker right now," Solona all but hissed at him, looking terrified when he glanced back at her. Her hands glowed with magic and she spun around as more of the darkspawn fumbled from the earth. Cullen stomped on the frozen one, taking small enjoyment from the way it shattered, before swinging his blade at the hurlock that charged him, dropping the bag in the process. Cullen was surprised at his strength. He was pushed back.

Summoning what he could he pushed back, letting the hurlock's balde slide off his own, swinging around to meet the armor across the monster's back. Cullen bit back a curse. He was uncontrolled without the hindrance of his armor. His swings felt funny, his movements sloppy. Cullen grunted when the monster kicked his chest with a roar, sending him toppling backwards. Only years of discipline had him holding onto his blade.

Cullen looked up and tried to get his claymore up. The large blade was not made for blocking. It was an offensive weapon. That was why he wore heavy armor. He would never be quick enough with the large blade to efficiently block anything. Cullen feared for his life. Feared that the last thing he would see would be the slobbering, drooling mess of a darkspawns face. But then the darkspawn stumbled as the earth shook and formed around him. Not on him, but hovering just above his skin as armor.

Cullen saw Solona in his side vision, gasping for air as she held her arms out in front of her, eyes shut and concentrating. The darkspawns blade slid across the earth and rock that shielded him, howling in rage when it was not a mortal blow. Cullen responded by swinging his blade, catching the darkspawns arm and making it unusable. The monster just howled even louder. Twisting his wrists and the blade Cullen swung at the hideous head and gave a sigh of relief when the darkspawn stopped twitching.

He glanced around seeing two charging him, waving their blades wildly, and Solona running from one, and the mage Darkspawn keeping tabs on her more than him. He raised his blade, hoping Solona could keep ahead of the evil monsters. Maker help him, he did not know what he would do if she wasn't able to.

Throwing his now armored shoulder into the nearest one, Cullen used his blade to swing at the second. Both yowled, and a third came at him. A short stout one charged and Cullen punted him away, turning back to the first that had regained his footing. His blade whirled between the two. The genlock was rolling on the ground, screaming and reaching for his own blade. Cullen swung, the head of one of the hurlocks flying from his neck. The second jammed his blade between some of the earth. Gritting his teeth Cullen screamed when the monster pulled his blade out.

He rounded on the last one, stumbling as he was pushed back. The monster was relentless. Striking away at the earth, chipping away at it. Cullen heard Solona gave a scream- a roar?- and he knew he needed to get at her. Ignoring the wounds, and common sense, Cullen charged the monster as he struck at him. Simply barreling into the hurlock they crashed and fell to the ground with grunts and roars. He struggled with the monster, beating him with his fist, trying so very hard to not let the blood splatter on him. Still, it was difficult and he wrestled the monsters own blade. Tossing it aside he reached for his claymore and turned to Solona.

She stood over the darkspawn, looking a complete mess, holding the staff of the monster mage. Most were fried with, his guess, lightning. It seemed a personal favorite of hers. As he neared he realized she wasn't just stiff- she was so tense she was shaking like a leaf on a windy day. He set his sword aside, slowly reaching around to grasp her arms. She jumped, spinning to stare up at him with wild eyes. "Shh, my dear. It's done now."

She dropped the staff as if it burned her skin. "I- I-They're dead."

"They are, dearest, they are." He kissed the top of her head, tasting the salt of sweat on her brow. "They can't hurt you."

"I don't want to stay here."

"We aren't going to." Cullen picked up his sword, finding the pack he had dropped during the fight, and lead her south. She stumbled blindly beside him. Cullen could only be thankful when she stopped shaking. He'd have to worry about the rest when they got somewhere safer.

When they did make camp the sun had already set. Cullen re wrapped his side where he had been stabbed and sliced before reaching for his mage. Solona curled up against him, hands fisted and twisting in his shirt. She was tired, fear and horror the only thing keeping her awake and wide eyed. Cullen cooked something quick and easy for her to eat. She kept what little she ate down. Cullen hadn't thought about what an actual fight would do to her.

Normal people weren't up for fighting monsters.

Cullen wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap and rocking. He wasn't sure what to do here. He was trained to fight abominations. He was grown to face monsters. Not Darkspawn, but monsters none the less. Special Templars with 'something special' as a Mother had put it, weren't sent to Circles. Because that was the most dangerous place to be. Cullen hadn't thought he had anything special.

But he just slew monsters with relative ease.

Had there been more, he'd of had a problem. He wasn't prepared for a large battle. Solona definitely was not. He needed to get them somewhere safe now. Traveling wasn't going to work anymore. And just picking a direction and going would get them killed sooner than later. He kissed her temple again, wishing he had thought this far ahead back when this first happened. When he had panicked and fled.

Some small part of him wondered how this would have been different had he stayed. What would have happened? All he could see was a dead and twisted Solona. Perhaps he was too narrowed minded. He leaned back and stared into the fire. He wasn't going to get any sleep that night. And Solona- he hoped she would.

He ended dozing off some time into the night. He woke to Solona pulling out of his arms, and he instinctively tightened his grip. "Feeling better?" he asked, pushing her hair away as he looked into her eyes.

"You were hurt, weren't you? I... I am so sorry. I should have healed you last night. Instead I slept on your wound." She frowned, pulling at his shirt. "Let me see it. Please. I can make it better."

Cullen blushed as she pushed his shirt up into his face, effectively hiding it. He reached up gingerly- stiff and sore and tender- and pulled his shirt over his head. He felt awkward, shirtless before her. His hair was a mess, he was covered in grime and dirt. He was tired. He was a- blushing like a virgin as she gently ran her hands over his bandages, peeling them off.

"I'm so sorry," she said, using a very professional voice. Her hands were cold, and he sucked in his gut when he realized that. But she kept her hands on her work. Trailing fingers over his large gash. "You should have had me see to this earlier. I'm not much of a healer. Not compared to others. Anders, Senior Enchanter Wynne, they were amazing. This is going to scar now."

"It will not be lonely," Cullen said, trying to ignore her hands on his person. She wasn't doing anything indecent. But darn if he couldn't stop wondering about her hands.

"That does not make it better." She pressed her hands to his wound and he hissed. Then he felt the draw of her magic, pulling and teasing his senses before the stinging of flesh being stitched together, cold healing magic spreading through his body. He had heard some people praise healing magic. For some it was a rejuvenating and refreshing. It always was painful for Cullen, the few times he had it used on him before. He wondered if it was because he was a Templar, or just simply a personal thing.

He let out the breath he had been holding raggedly, shivering as he felt his skin going back to normal. Then her hands warmed over his skin, traveling from his wound across the plains of his stomach, the light heat of fire magic dancing from her fingers. He sucked in air, not able to get enough. Warmth, internal and agonizing, spread down to his loins in a way that was inappropriate for what she was doing for him.

"Does that feel better? I know my hands are so cold," she said, laying her palm flat against him. Then she slowly pulled her her hand away, setting it with her other in her lap. He felt her magic disappear from his senses, and he missed it. And her hand. He instantly missed her hand. Instead of saying that- because that was so very dangerous- he pulled for his shirt. He quickly covered, avoiding her eyes that watched and seemed to appraise.

Did she like what she saw, he wondered. Did she enjoy touching him? He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to drive away all the bad. He wanted to touch her. To run his fingers through her hair, to wash away the grime and dirt, to push away her fears. But, instead, he stammered out a shaky "We should- I mean we need to-"

"I'll make a quick breakfast," she said, standing up and moving to the bag. He noticed she shook again. Her magic, he realized. She was still so drained. Cullen knew he was going to have to push her hard. He wanted to get to a town. Not a villiage, a town. He smoothed his hair back, knowing it was a lost cause at this point, and went to clean his blade.

_I didn't mention it here, and I didn't on LJ. I thought I should explain. In my little head canon Anders had a girlfriend in the Tower that was sort of special. She died during her Harrowing and that bitchy Templar Rylock was there. She'd been on his case before and since his gf died with her around, he came to obvious conclusions. But because he's Awakening Anders and not DA2 Anders he doesn't believe he can do anything/doesn't really want to risk himself. He meets Karl as a Grey Warden (personally, my Grey Wardens often send him back to the Tower for messaging when he annoys him/her). For clarification, if anybody has been wondering about my mentioning of Anders._

_Anyway, this chapter was hard to write. I haven't done a fight scene, and one limited to one characters point of view, in forever. I blame that. I used to love writing fight scenes. Don't know what happened. Either way its done now. Hope you guys enjoyed it. The smut is coming (if you can't tell- Cullen is getting a little antsy). Which means we're nearing the end._

_Reviews are appreciated._


	9. Chapter 9

Cullen sat in the tavern where, it seemed, most of the population of the town seemed to dwell. Apparently the Grey Warden had done something large in Redcliffe. The story changed with every tell, but the general gist was that he saved the town and castle from monsters, and saved the Arl. Not that anybody knew the Arl was in danger, but he was saved now.

There were rumors that the Grey Warden was starting an army, traveling around to try and fight Loghain and the Blight. Cullen found little interest in the gossip and the rumors. He could also do very much without all the ladies crowding him. Especially whenever Solona wasn't with him they found him very interesting. Perhaps because he was a traveler, a warrior, or maybe they just assumed he had soverigns to spare. Whatever the reason, Cullen was not impressed. Course, if he wanted better he knew he should have gone to a better bar.

Cullen looked back to his drink. He was still on his first. They didn't have coin to spend on much else. The plan, for what it was worth, to get out of Fereldan was shaping up mentally. And they needed coin. He savored the drink, mostly to have something to do as he waited. Tomorrow he was going to have to speak to a Mother to speak about sending him to another Circle. It'd be the easiest way to get out of the country. They'd have money for Solona and the Chantry would pay for him. Whether he actually went to the Circle would be a question he faced when they got out of Fereldan.

His largest problem was that he didn't lie very well. In fact, he was a horrible liar, over all. Solona had been helping him with the story and Cullen wasn't sure he liked that she was so competent with coming up with a believable lie. But what did he say to that? Cullen was more the abnormal one then her for that. Cullen gave another sigh, running his hand through his curly hair, fighting the knots with a flinch as he reclined back. Another drink of the swill and he decided he was done for the night.

He waited moments more before making his way up to his room. Because of the lie he and Solona were no longer able to share a room. And Cullen found himself staring at the wall that led to her room far too much to be healthy. He shook his head before pulling his shirt off and sitting on the bed. His side was fully healed, no longer even pulling against him when he moved. The scar was gruesome, but small.

Letting his hand fall away he crossed his legs and began his meditation. It would help calm him and make sleeping much easier. He had easily grown used to Solona at his side and he had problems now that she was forced in a room next to his. Besides his nerves were strained anyway and meditation did much better than alcohol for him.

Cullen jumped out of his skin when he felt small hands snake around his side and an incredibly soft- curvy body pressed against his back. He stiffened, the cold hands against skin making his gasp and shudder. "I just wanted to say good night," she whispered into his ear before letting go and disappearing like a ghost. He heard the door click shut. He let out a deep breath, closing his eyes and knowing his meditation was shot to the void.

"Good night," he whispered to the room, rubbing his eyes.

What little sleep he had during the night made him sluggish in the morning. Or perhaps the lack of sleep. But Cullen got up and dressed appropriately to meet with the Mother. Stubble gone, hair trimmed, clothes clean- at least he looked good. His stomach was eating itself. Rubbing the bridge of his nose he glanced again at the elderly lady as she finished up with the scroll on her desk. "Cullen, was it?" she asked finally, voice rough in her old years.

"Yes ma'am."

"And you're a Templar?"

"Yes. If I may-?"

"Of course. Tell me."

Cullen took a steadying breath. "I was out on a hunt for an apostate. The team got news of trouble brewing back in the Circle and we doubled back. However, the mage took advantage of it and began to pick us off. I survived long to get away from him. But- There was no reason to go back to the Tower."

He was such a horrible liar. She'd never believe him.

"I'll have the Templars check around for the apostate."

"Thank you," Cullen muttered. He hoped her tone wasn't as bad as it sounded. Plenty of Mothers just sounded mean and angry with you.

"And you?"

"I have the lyrium from the other Templars- my brothers. It has lasted me well enough."

"We'll resupply you, dear. What am I to do with you?" Her cobalt eyes narrowed. "I have two options. You are a Tower Templar. You're always needed. But to resign you is going to take more paperwork than is already on my desk. So, two options. I slip you under the desk to somebody who really needs you or you end up in a Chantry somewhere."

Cullen's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "What?"

The Mother's eyes narrowed even further. "There are Circles, as I'm sure you know, that are very underhanded. They will take you, and accept that the paperwork is... severely lessened. Do you want to go back to a Circle? You have apparently done some very good work. You're hunting apostates, you heard about the Circle. You're obviously very good."

Cullen was pretty sure she didn't really know if he was any good. But she was saying she'd put that in his letter and everything would go smoothly. For some reason, knowing that the Mother was willing to be so underhanded- to twist the rules made Cullen feel even worse. If his stomach had been eating itself before hand it was devouring now.

"What other Circle, Mother?"

"Does it matter?"

Cullen swallowed. "I suppose not, Mother."

"Good. I'll write everything up and get you a place on a ship." She turned back to her desk work. Cullen bowed and made his way out of the Chantry so quick he might have been running. Outside he breathed in the salty air and pulled at the collar of his shirt. Maker help him- was he the only honest person around? He running his hands through his hair and shaking it loose.

"Went that well?" He turned to see Solona standing. She had been sitting in the shade of a tree as she dusted off her robes. "Are you going?"

Cullen reached forward before remembering she was just a friend. He let his hands drop and glanced at her shoes. "I am unsure where. She is sending a note to the inn for me later today when she works out where to send me."

"So dates and ships come with that," she mumbled, moving to step beside him. They began walking through the town towards someplace they could sit and relax. "Well, congratulations on being returned to the Circle, then, Cullen."

Cullen frowned. "You're upset?"

"No." She glanced up at him, shrugging. "You're happy aren't you? You like being a Templar."

Cullen nodded. He liked being a Templar. Mages needed to be watched and taught how to control their powers. They were extremely dangerous, not even counting that they could turn into abominations at any time and destroy everything. He liked protecting them and the people. It was something he was good at.

"Never mind. You're probably thinking it bothers me or something." She shook her head and smiled up at him. "Let's get something to eat." She walked ahead of him, leading him to where she wanted to eat, hips swaying in such a damnable way. Cullen licked his lips and said a prayer as he followed her. He was beginning to wonder if he was correct in thinking she did it all unconsciously. Every man always swore women were bred with the knowledge to do what she was doing to him.

While they ate she told him what she had done. He nearly chocked on his food when she said she had gone to the docks without him. When he told her she shouldn't have she just laughed and waved his concern away. That only infuriated him more. Cullen had fumed and pouted the rest of the meal and the walk back to the inn. Solona simply watched him, eyebrows raised and smiling. She didn't understand that the docks were dangerous. She didn't know what sailors did to women. Docks and slums weren't anywhere where she needed to be. Even if she was just looking at the ships and getting information. She should have waited for him.

He had deflated by the time he got to his room, but by then he was alone and it didn't mean anything. Cullen huffed, ire rising again when he realized that. He made his way through the room towards the tub to rinse off. Bathing always made him feel better. That or meditation. But Cullen had a feeling meditations weren't any good when it came to women and his problems with a particular one. Cullen knew, somewhere deep, that he was over protective.

But could she blame him?

She was a mage. She could be taken away at any time. Just one slip up. More than that life was dangerous outside the Tower. Cullen knew inside the Tower wasn't the most safe of places. There were Templars that abused their power before caught and removed. There were mages who were sociopaths of some sort or another. But it was different in the Tower to walking across the docks. Why she didn't understand that, Cullen didn't know.

Cullen soaked in the small tub- almost uncomfortable really- until the water was cold. It was a waste of water, but he felt better. Getting out of the tub he reached for the fluffy towel and covered his head with it to begin patting himself down. Leaving the puddle of water on the ground as he slung the towel around his neck to catch the water dripping from his hair as he made his way into the room. He forgot his pants in-

"Oh! I ah- thought you went out after... I was waiting for you to- Um. Wow." Solona sat on his bed- there was no chair in the room. Her eyes very wide and very much stuck at his crotch. Cullen whipped the towel down, fumbling to get it to cover him. Cullen stuttered, face so red he's sure all his freckles had disappeared. The only thing he can come up with to say is a long strangled sound that was more embarrassing and desperate than anything he wanted to say.

He hopes she- by a miracle- hadn't heart that.

She slid off the bed elegantly, face rosy. But by her expression it was in no way from embarrassment and made his cock twitch. Cullen tried to remember to breath since he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to move. Her small hand, cool to the touch, slid up from his abdomen and he gasped. The slow trail was burning until the hands found purchase on his shoulders. She stood on her toes, stretching and press firmly against him as she pressed her lips to his.

He did the only thing he could- dipped down to give her easier access, one hand releasing the towel to thread through her hair and pull her closer. He ran his tongue across her teeth and over her tongue, drinking her in like a starving man. And then her hips rolled and his hand was pressed and-

Andraste's freckled tits- he gasped against her lips and the towel dropped.

_What? Me? A tease? I have no idea what you could be talking about. :D_

_So, it's only what, been FOREVER since I updated, huh? Yeah, but absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that. No, my muse went and decided that it wanted some Dynasty Warriors loving, and the stupid fickle thing didn't want to write this. I think it's because I'm scared of ruing the story with my (possibly bad) smut (my confidence- I have none). Usually I'm not scared of smut, but this has sort of become like my baby and I don't want to ruin it. So a lot of this was somewhat forced because I refused to run away from the smut! Anyway, sexiness should be next chapter. If, ya know, you hadn't guessed that._

_Reviews will help my confidence and so I should get it done faster (hint hint)._


	10. Chapter 10

Cullen moaned into her mouth as she just pushed closer. His hand snaked around to grip her hip, leaving him bare. The fabric of her dress brushing against his quickly hardening member had him rolling his own hips to greet hers. He had to pull back to breath, and in that moment something resembling sanity tickled his mind and he was going to pull back. But her small hands slid down his chest, exploring the scars and muscles. Her hands slid down to his hips and back up, nails dragging against his skin causing him to shiver as he fought to remain standing.

Then those cotton soft hands stretched up and her thumb brushed across his nipple. Cullen couldn't get enough air as he hissed. Her large eyes stared up at him, pink lips parted and her pupils blown. He dipped down again, lips clashing against hers and they stumbled back until they toppled onto the bed.

He pressed against her, barely able to keep the bulk of his weight off of her. She moaned into his mouth, hands sliding up to thread through his hair. "Solona," he said, voice almost embarrassingly husky as he pulled away. She didn't let him continue. Her leg wiggled and stretched, wrapping around his hip and she pulled him back down for another kiss. "Solona," he said against her lips, hands braced on either side of her head.

"Yes?" she said, kissing his jaw, dragging her nails up his back.

"Wh-wh-"

"Shush," she said, pushing him up and flipping them. His wonder and shock allowed her to. She straddled him, reaching around behind her to untie her dress. Cullen's breath hitched as the dress loosened, falling off her shoulders and showing the milky curve of her breasts. His hands latched to her hips as he watched her shake and shimmy the dress down, pulling her hands out of the sleeves so the dress pooled at her hips. "Please, don't stop," she said, hands on his chest again, hips rolling.

His hips jerked to grind against her. He threw his head back and gave a long guttural groan. She bent down and kissed his neck, suckling at his collar bone, sliding down slowly. His hands roamed up to grope her arse, squeezing the soft curves. Cullen pulled her up for another kiss, fighting to get her dress off.

She kicked it across the floor and his hands moved to her breast binding, the thick bra fighting his every attempt. Finally he unhooked it, letting it drop to pull at her smalls until they too were gone. He held her hips again, thumbs rubbing slow circles. He tightened his grip and he rolled them over, his eyes snapping to watch, not trying to hide his lewd expression as her breasts bounced. Her arms thrown back as she stared up at him. He slowly cupped a breast, rolling it. Solona arched into his hand moaning his name.

Her legs spread to wrap around his waist, arching even farther, and he brushed against her sex. He made sounds that were more animistic than words, grinding against that soft wet warmth. He lowered himself to lock his lips around her dusky nipple, dragging his tongue across the peak until he felt it pebble, brushing his thumb across her other one.

He switched breasts, hand sliding down the softness of her stomach to the damp and sticky curls. He groaned, teeth latching gently around her nipple as his finger delved deeper. He found the lips, her hips bucking wildly and threw her head back. She moaned his name and it goaded him on. Though his touch was still tentative, he circled the nub he found and she withered beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders. She begged more, don't stop, and yes yes!

Slowly he pushed his finger past her swollen lips, eyes locking on her face as she arched and rode the digit. "Maker," he said, "you're beautiful," he said, leaning back to simply look and watch and sit in awe. He pushed in a second finger, delving into the tight wet warmth. Her muscles clamped around his fingers and his cock twitched in anticipation. "Solona please-"

He wasn't sure what he was begging for but she pulled him down for a kiss and her hand slipped between them and brushed along the swollen head of his cock, swirling along the weeping slit and covering her elegant fingers. He glanced down their bodies to see her fingers trailing along his cock. He hissed, burying his head at the crook of her neck until he had to throw it back and his hips jerked. "No- stop. Stop," he hissed, kissing her face as she glanced up at him, slowly releasing her grip. "I'm not- inside you," he said. He couldn't get enough air and his cock was throbbing, begging him for release.

She spread her legs wider.

He groaned at the sight. A small part of him, the part not basking in the lust and love of being there with her- that made her call out his name and buck against his fingers- wondered about past partners. She was no virgin. And that created dark feelings that had animalistic wants emerging. A want to mark her, to make her loose all thoughts except him and his cock. A need to make her frenzied for him in the same way he needed her.

He took his cock, throbbing and aching, and aligned it to her cunt, watching her face as much as what he was doing. He thrust in and she arched to take in more and more until he was in to the hilt. Slow and gradual had been the plan when he was sane and capable of thought. Ease into her. Now all he could do was hold the position, hunched over her, one hand sliding down to her hip and back up, brushing his thumb under her breast.

She rolled her hips and he pulled back and thrust back in. She moaned. He moved, again and again until he found the angel that hit that spot that had her throwing her head back and let out a long keen before begging for more. His name spilled from her lips as she thrust back eagerly to each pump. He felt himself rising higher and higher.

Then he came. His world spun and when white. Every nerve and thought sung and her name came out like a chant. Still pounding away the last of his orgasm he leaned back and stared at where he was embedded deep inside her. She was quivering, keening, and he brought a shaky hand to her curls and slid down to bring her an orgasm as well. Her muscles clamped on his softening cock and she tensed, letting out a scream that vaguely sounded like his name.

When she fell limp, legs sliding off his hips, he collapsed next to her. She gasped for air, unable to get enough, and he thought she was so beautiful in that moment. Her head rolled to look at him, a hand cupping his jaw as she smiled. "That was wonderful," she said, hand trailing down to his neck before falling limp as she closed her eyes.

Cullen rested a hand on her stomach, rubbing his thumb across the soft curve before pulling her close, back to his chest. He kissed her right behind her ear, then fought for the blankets. She was uncooperative and limp in his arms.

_Goodness, well. Hope this doesn't disappoint, but we'll be back to plot next update. Kept this just the smut. So it's short. Anyway I have nothing really to say about this. Other than life is picking up. Might be a long time again for an update, tho the smut is done so that might just be what everybody wanted. Anyway, reviews are appreciated._


	11. Chapter 11

Cullen awoke with her snuggling in his arms, and it was perfect. Everything was right in the world. Then Solona rolled over, nearly slapping him in the face, when he moved to glance a the curtain. Chuckling he pulled her back to him, kissing her hair as he tried to fall back into slumber. It didn't much work and she started to mumble and shift, her ass dragging across his morning erection. He gave a groan, watching as her eyes opened and she sleepily stretched up to kiss him. He smiled against her lips as she pressed harder, rolling him and laying on his chest. Just as quickly she curled again to go back to sleep.

She woke up instantly when there was a knock at the door. "Templar?" a voice said. "Message for you, ser. From the revered Mother."

"Of course. A moment, please," Cullen said, face turning rosy. Solona looked nonplussed, though she quickly slid off of him- and damn if that didn't do sinful things to his body- and snatched up her belongings and easily slipped into the bathroom. Hidden away from prying eyes. Cullen pulled up his trousers and roughly tied them and cracked open the door.

The Sister on the other side eyed him as she handed over the parchment. He thanked her quickly and ignored her lingering gaze as he waited for her to leave before he shut the door. It was only polite. With a gusty sigh he turned to see Solona peaking out of the bathroom. She gave him a smile when it was safe and walked out, dressed and running her fingers through her hair. Instead of saying anything she searched the floor for her shoes.

Cullen sat on the bed and broke the seal, quickly pulling out the paper and reading the content of the letter. Solona gave a sound of cheer as she found them, stretching from her place on the floor to get the second one before standing to lean against him and read over his shoulder. "Seawing, then," she said, glancing back at him with a smile before sitting back and braiding her hair.

Cullen hummed, watching her. She glanced up and noticed his gaze. She gave a little smile, brows furrowing in question. He opened his mouth before shaking his head and smiling, folding the paper and putting it back in the envelope. "What?" she said, arms dropping.

Cullen glanced back at her before setting the envelope in his bag. "I-" Cullen glanced back at her, not sure how to say it. Anyway he could think of made him sound arrogant or degrading her. Most were both.

"Cullen, say it. This is probably just going to steam and fester horribly if you don't." She stood from the bed, hands on her lovely hips as she watched him. "I'll... try to not get mad until you explain."

Because that was reassuring.

Cullen frowned, forcing himself to remain sitting. He still remembered their last fight- or first. Same thing, really. And it wasn't important. But it would bother him. And perhaps that made it important? "I... had thought you a... less experienced?" He flinched as he said it.

She straightened, eyebrow raising and looking completely shocked. Head shaking, mouth open as she tried to understand, he figured. Even he knew it didn't make a whole lot of sense. "What?"

"Last night-"

"Sex, yes, I understand that part." She rubbed her forehead and licked her lips, distracting him a bit. "Sorry. Interrupting. I said I would not." She clasped her hands and closed her mouth tightly. He wanted to kiss her and make it all go away.

But of course, that wouldn't be accepted.

"I thought you would be-" he stuttered, face red. To actually say it was hard. And it made him feel like a teenager, a dork again. As old as he was he should have been able to talk about sex.

"Virgin."

"Yes. That." He glanced at his feet before glancing at her expression. Schooled, protected, closed off. Fantastic. "But you weren't."

And he was.

Not that he was going to say that. Cullen licked his lips. He felt like the damn woman in this relationship. So insecure and confused. Not to be sexist, of course, but- he was getting off track. Solona let out a quiet huff. "I had a few flings back in the Circle." She watched him, awaiting his response. He waited for her to continue because talking was hard. "I trusted Anders and he helped me through the first steps back before he got into that semi serious relationship with Neria. And- are we really talking about this?"

With all the blood rushing to his cheeks, Cullen was pretty sure he was going to burst a vein. And he couldn't decide how he felt about Anders, of all people, touching her. He hadn't ever liked Anders, personally. And the man was, for lack of a better word, talented. By gossip, at least. Some mages, Cullen knew got around. Anders only hid as much as it took to save him from Tranquility, everything else he rubbed their noses in. Their, as in Templars. "I- Anders?"

She finally responded in a way that made him feel a little bit more in control. She blushed, and he felt that anger that always made him feel more grounded. Not that anger was a good response, the rational part of his mind said. But he at least was grounded now. Insecure now, he growled up at her. "I suppose I should just be more surprised that it was Anders of all the mages."

"Oh get off your high horse." He jerked staring up at her and almost deflated in his surprise. "Sometimes it's so easy to forget you were -are a Templar and things get distorted. Lost in translation. I was never going to get out of that Tower, as far as I knew. I was never going to feel grass under my feet or anything like freedom. I'm still not. Everything I will ever do will either be a lie- because they can't know what I am- or defined by the magic I can do. I accepted that.

"But that's not the point- though it's something you seem to forget Cullen. The point was that some horrible horrible things happen in Circles and I was growing up and that left so many openings to Templars. Rape isn't often about the sex, but that wasn't unheard of. More often then not it's about asserting power and dominance so I kept my head low as Orsino taught me to. But I was still scared. If it happened I would have to deal with it. But I was not going to let a Templar steal my virginity Cullen."

Cullen gaped up at her like a fish and did little else than stare. So she continued. "I trust Anders. He's a self centered prick at times, I won't deny. But he cared. And he was gentle as I knew he would be. That was important to me. There wasn't any emotion. Not even when the trysts continued for a short time. He was experienced, he knew things. He made it enjoyable and I thought- if I had to face a Templar one day at least I would know that sex could be enjoyed. It wouldn't terrify me. I hoped."

Cullen knew he didn't always know everything. And a part of him knew there were things he would never know or see in Solona. Things he wouldn't even understand. But to hear this sort of confession, and her angry but almost flippant way of explaining it twisted a knife in his gut. It reminded him of when she explained her family to him. She was so detached, numbed to these sorts of horrors and it was heartbreaking. Was it just her or did the Circle do this to her? What could he do to make it all better?

Nothing, he knew.

Licking his lips he quickly rose and pulled her into a hug. She gave a startled jerk- obviously expecting anything but. He held her tightly, mumbling apologies. For bringing it up, for what his brothers could have done to her. For being jealous. She slowly wrapped her arms around him, returning the hug. No tears, not great emotional let out. Just acceptance that he wouldn't ever understand and she would have to make do with this. Cullen wasn't sure he could and wished, sometimes, that he could be as strong as her.

_So I thought I should explain why she wasn't actually a virgin, even though everybody was assuming she was since she did sort of act it. Emotionally tieing herself to somebody- that was new. Sex in general, not all that new. So that's why she was shy and timid with Cullen. I also thought this would show more of Solona, who you guys only get a limited view of. Anyway, not sure why this chapter was like pulling teeth to write but it was. Probably because it was an argument or something. But I apologize none the less. I should get these out quicker for you guys._

_Reviews appreciated._


	12. Chapter 12

Things after that had progressed quickly, the day soaring by. They had a quick breakfast and then made their way to the docks, hoping there would be room aboard the Seawing for Solona. It took some pushing from Cullen, mentioning his status as Templar and convincing the Captain that this would earn him points with the Chantry, for her to get on. Everybody, apparently, was hoping to get to Kirkwall because of the Blight. It was terrifying to think about. It hadn't been that long since it had started- honestly Fereldan was fairly easy to travel across and it wasn't like it had taken them a few more than a couple of weeks to get at the docks.

The news of a Grey Warden traversing about didn't slow the flocks though. Not that Cullen blamed them. With Loghain and the political drama, Lothering decimated, and the news of one (maybe two- the rumors were sketchy) running around doing anything after Ostagar left Fereldan as probably low on the list of Places to Live. Still, it had been a scare having to fight to get Solona on the boat with him.

He wasn't sure what they would have done had there been no room and the Captain firm on that.

Which was probably why Gregior always said there needed to be a back up plan and such. Cullen could hear his voice lecturing still in the back of his head. Gregior had been a good man if not strict. For good reason, as Cullen saw now. He had thought they too strict on the mages, but now-

Now he wasn't so sure.

Looking at Solona and some of the mages it was easy to think that maybe they were. And then suddenly the masses were Bloodmages and the Tower was getting eaten by abominations. Cullen shivered as he walked beside Solona- who was skimming the stalls and windows. They had little to no money and she couldn't actually shop but she loved to look. And the bustle made it easy to distract himself from these thoughts usually. Not that day, though, it seemed.

She glanced up with him, worry subtly etched into her features, and Cullen smiled down at her. They were using the facade and so he couldn't hold her hand or wrap his arm around her waist. Something he wanted to do. But- even after last night- it was easy to fall back into the distance he had once set for himself. At least for now. Cullen wasn't sure it would stay that way.

He hoped it wouldn't stay that way.

They ended up back at the inn to eat and Solona packed their bags for them. Because Cullen had no organizational skills whatsoever. Being a Templar he never had enough possessions to learn about organization. It all just always fit no matter how he put them in the chest or bag and that was all fine. Solona however could pack a room into a bag it seemed. It sort of left him sitting around and watching her work, but honestly Cullen didn't mind watching her. She got an adorable pout when the puzzle didn't fit just right.

It took some convincing but he got her to stay with him for the night. She was worried about being caught and he just really wanted to cuddle with her. He was quite the romantic, he was realizing. Not just in the sense of love, but the grand adventures and epic tasks. Perhaps that was why this running and what happened at the Circle affected him so much. When Solona seemed fine. She was far more grounded than him. It didn't stop her from giving him a kiss goodnight and snuggling in his arms, however.

It took another day for the Seawing to depart. She and him were shoved into the hold with everybody else that could pay for passage and the long journey began. Solona slept or read through most of it, ignoring the jeering of the sailors and making small talk with the other- mostly terrified- womanfolk. Cullen ended up with a few of the other Templars and talking with them. They all took notice of Solona, of course. Because he did. Because he kept glancing at her. He shouldn't have been surprised- or upset- that they looked and ogled her.

But he sort of was.

Especially their teasings. "Looks like Cullen's sweet on a girl." Or the "That is some mighty fine ass, Cullen. Good eyes, friend." Either of the two types were horrible because Cullen had no idea how to respond to either. Yes he was sweet on Solona. In fact, she was his woman. They should respect her because she was his and he loved her. But he couldn't say that. Even if they hadn't hid their relationship- or what little of it there had been before they had reached here- he wasn't very good with admitting things like that. Especially not to the guys. The other type make him bristle and frown, their laughing and teasing grating his more possessive nerves.

Still, there were moments that he could shuffle to go sit with her. That was okay. They were friends. Even if the others realized that wasn't what he wanted. And no matter how much they teased him about it, he wasn't going to stop sitting with her and quietly talking. Most of the time it was about nothing. A book she was reading- she traded with some of the other folks on the ship and a few were quite naughty from the way she stumbled and skipped parts when talking to him- or how particularly bad the meal was that day.

When they reached Kirkwall he tried to ignore the way Solona seemed to shut into herself more. Instead he focused on the horribly scenery because there was nothing he could do about that. Not right then anyway. Still, he gave her his arm and they walked together off the boat. She quietly murmured about being happy about being back on land. Even if it was cold grey stone again. And that a bath would be lovely now. Cullen tried not to think about her in a bath tub, water trailing down between her generous breasts as she dragged a sponge- he wasn't thinking about that.

It took some posturing on his part- the Kirkwall guard were already getting strict on who was allowed in and who was not- but he was able to weasel her in with him again by pushing his Templar status. Some good was coming of it, then. Eased the guilt he sometimes felt over it. It was rare- he knew he was doing good work, the Maker's work- but there was times when he thought about the looks Solona had given him and he wondered if it would be better if he hadn't ever been a Templar.

Even if it meant he'd never have met her.

She waited awkwardly in the Gallows while he spoke to the Knight Commander. Meredith was a stern woman, he could already see. The strain of her position leaving her with a permanent scowl and a hard voice. She had likely been very pretty a long time ago, he thought. But the way she glared at everything, the way she barked orders, he could see the problems. Kirkwall was known for it's danger. The large problem of bloodmages and demons. More so than anywhere. He couldn't blame the Knight Commander for her lack of patience. Still, he was quick to remove Solona- get her as far away as possible from the woman- and rode with her on the first boat out of the Gallows and to the city.

Entering Kirkwall Cullen couldn't help but compare it to Fereldan. It was warmer, he could already tell that. The spray of the water annoying, the salt likely sticking to him and his clothes. Everything was rather ugly looking. The walls bare and tall, the people scowling and huffing as they walked around. It wasn't Fereldan. Where most of the people were at least helpful if not smiling. It wasn't crisp and cool with rolling green hills and dogs barking in the background. There wasn't any mud or laughter. There weren't any trees or flowers. It was just stone. Tall and square, crudely painted in some parts.

It was like being back in the Circle. Except, this cage wasn't even gilded, he realized. He squeezed Solona's arm and led her through the city. He hadn't realized how overfull everything was and he had no idea where to put her. Where she would be safe. It was already easy to see Lowtown was anything but. And yet they had no funds for anywhere. He couldn't leave her in Darktown! His grip on her tightened as they walked. Meredith hadn't been subtle about the fact that he would have very little time to settle in before he would be put to work. And that was fine with him. He wanted to go back to being useful. Being a Templar.

But how could he do anything if he didn't know she was being taken care of?

"Over there," she said, tugging on his arm to pull him towards a door too close to the tavern to be any good he thought. "More Fereldans."

He nodded and she made her way in, the crowd sadly large. To think so many desperate and lost. And Kirkwall unable to do a thing for them, he thought. So many like his Solona. The lady at the front was heavily burden, straight to the point. It was only when Solona offered to help that the lady broke out in a smile. Solona had nothing to give but knowledge and time, but it seemed the lady thought that similar to gold.

This was the best they were going to get at the moment. Cullen had to accept that. She had at least people to watch over her. A roof- the lady was letting her stay there since she would be working with her. He would save coin to get Solona her own home. There would never be enough to Hightown, but at least a home in Lowtown would be good. For now. It wasn't what she deserved, but Solona still smiled as she rolled up her sleeves.

He had to get back. Had to go back to the Gallows and work. This was their life now. Reality had a way of ruining dreams. But he could deal with this. Until he could make it better for her. And when he could give her better and take care of her- because this did not count- he'd maybe work up the nerve to ask her to marry him. Because that dream- of her truly his in the eyes of the Chantry and the Maker- that reality couldn't destroy.

_This is the end. I have thoughts on continuing with a Part 2 sort of deal. Perhaps just shorts of him and Solona putting up with all the shit that goes down in Kirkwall after the first five years. Because the first five are pretty mellow actually if you aren't Hawke. Save for the fact that bloodmages are always loose and the gangs are savages at night. As it stands right now though I'm not promising I'll ever get around to it. As much as I love this story and the prompt schools been hell again and I have other stories on my plate that I should get around to finishing before I take up this. Even if they're just shorts. Though, since it would be a continuation of this (and all of you would likely maybe be the readers) any thoughts on Hawke (gender/class) and their LI? Something maybe to make me think. If it sticks and rolls around in my head enough, I'd likely end up writing it (if that is what you want of course- this totally isn't me bribing ya'll for reviews. C: ) _

_Anyway, thank you all so much for reading the story. I have such a hard time ending and letting things go, so that's one reason this chapter took so long. I hope it doesn't disappoint for an ending. Not a big climatic thing- really, nothing surprising at all with the ending I'm sure. But I'm rather okay with it (really, I just hate endings altogether). Thank you to OP from the kinkmeme for the prompt. This Solona is nothing like my Solona, but she was very cute to write and I do love Cullen. It was nice to get around to finally actually writing him. So the prompt was good for me. Again, thank you to everybody (who reviewed, faved, or just read. It means a lot to know people liked the story enough to do any of the three)._


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